


Better Together

by zorilleerrant



Category: Charmed (TV 1998), Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-06-26 00:36:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19756984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorilleerrant/pseuds/zorilleerrant
Summary: Disappointed by the reboot? Now more like Old Charmed in canon, tone, and scope, but with the same characters from New Charmed.





	1. Inheritance

**Author's Note:**

> This is still a draft, and I'll probably be rewriting it all once I finish, but feel free to leave concrit, SPaG corrections, and continuity nitpicks, although some of the timing is fudged on purpose to fit the story better (esp. wrt Chris and Wyatt's ages, and Bianca once she shows up).

“We’ve got all the rooms in the house filled – someone’s going to have to stay in the attic – but we still have a couple seats open for the memorial. Is Brian coming?” asked Mel, trying to dust the awkward part of the lamp she never dusted for her own benefit, wondering whether she was just trying to distract herself, or if that much of her self-worth was really predicated on what distant family and family friends thought of her ability to clean a lamp.

“Oh. I don’t – I didn’t think so? But maybe that’s,” Maggie gave her sister that awkward look that was usually reserved for flashcards. Usually – usually – Mel was good about letting Maggie make up her own mind in her own time, but just now, she had a feeling Mel very much thought there was a _right answer_ and a _wrong answer_ for her to give to this question. “I thought it might be awkward, but mom liked him, and he liked mom, right, he must have, so maybe – should I have asked him not to come? Or _to_? Or should I just see if he shows and not….”

“Not worry so much?” Mel asked, dropping the cloth and pushing her hair out of her eyes. She stared at Maggie for a minute, then grabbed her, pulling her into a hug.

Maggie sobbed.

“Stronger together,” Mel murmured at her, rubbing her back in slow circles, while _Boys Don’t Cry_ played in her head. She’d never managed to figure out how their mom made it seem like such a natural action, or what song had played in Marisol’s head while she comforted people. Mel felt her eyes prickle in that way that meant she wanted to cry but she couldn’t, because she was too tense or dehydrated or something. “I’m going to get us some tea.”

Maggie pulled out one of her embroidered handkerchiefs, dabbing at her eyes. Her mascara was running just so, even though her eyeliner was still on point, because as she’d been pointing out to Mel for days, the entire grieving process was a performance anyway, so she might as well find a way to show her grief that meant something to _her_ , not just bottle it up and look however all their houseguests expected her to look.

Mel had to admit, it did look dramatic. She sort of wished she had something so overt, because the only way she’d found to make her inner thoughts soak their way into her outward appearance was to don the oversized sweater their mom liked to wear in winter. She hadn’t had a chance to bring it out yet this year, and it smelled like cedar with a hint of that lavender laundry detergent they’d used most of last winter, and nothing at all like their mom’s perfume, despite the fact that Mel had tried to give it a spray. And it was a little too warm, which at least made the sweat soak into her hair, making it stick up funny when she ran her hands through it, and that felt a little more like grief-stricken daughter, anyway.

Maggie had taken over making the tea, trying not to look worried at Mel just standing there. She pulled out a chair. “Hey, you want to take a break? I can’t put the sheets on all the couches until the laundry finishes anyway. You want a snack?”

Mel smiled into her hand and covered it with an extremely sarcastic cough. “Yeah? You picked up baking during rush?”

“Okay, first of all, yes,” Maggie said, “we’re actually going to have a baking competition this weekend and I’m _going_ to win. I meant like. Soup?”

“Soup?” Mel repeated. “Is that. Is that the right food at a time like this?”

“I don’t know, Mel, mom’s never been murdered before,” Maggie said, placing a teacup in front of her with a little more force than necessary. “Is there, like, an etiquette guide to ‘foods to serve when your mom gets murdered’, should I check mom’s library?”

“If there was, she’d have it,” Mel said thoughtfully. “I think she does have a very old one on catering funerals, and then one from the fifties about memorial services but I really wouldn’t trust that one, I’ve seen the pictures in it.”

Maggie shuddered. “How much food do we have to make, anyway? I mean, have we got all the RSVPs back? Who’s even coming?”

“I mean, not all of them,” Mel said, “but we got most everyone we expected to, Auntie Deb is bringing the cousins and Uncle Clarence will be here tomorrow but he can’t bring Arlo because he has work, and Pepe is bringing his girlfriend so we’re setting them up in – ”

“Oh, not in my room, Mel, please,” Maggie said.

Mel rolled her eyes. “I kind of thought you’d be like that, so no, we’re going to share your room, they’ll be in mom’s. I figure Pam and Marigold can share my room since they’re arriving together and never seemed to mind before, but we should probably ask first, and that just leaves…Lucretia, Patience, and Harry.”

“First of all, who are any of those last three people,” Maggie said, “and also, why are our other cousins, who are not bringing their brand new girlfriends awkwardly to a funeral, not in mom’s room? What if Pepe breaks something?”

“They asked to share the living room, build a fort and all. Like when we were little. I thought it was sweet,” Mel said, frowning.

Maggie nodded. “Okay, you’re right. Do we still have the popup tent? I’m going to find it. We’re going to – we can put it up. Yeah. Just like old times. Uncle Lawrence is in the Book Nook again? Okay, that’s good. Right.”

“I don’t think Pepe’s going to break anything but we can clear out anything particularly breakable if you’re worried,” Mel said. “I was going to put it up in the attic, you know, so we can maybe. Wait a while before we sort it.”

“Sort it?” Maggie said, her voice raising as she repeated herself, “sort it? What, like to throw away? You just want to throw away mom’s stuff?”

“Okay, this is why the book said we should wait a while before we do it,” Mel said, “which I think was a good call on the book’s part.”

“You’re reading _books_ about how best to _throw away mom’s stuff_?” Maggie said.

Mel shrugged. “It’s not throwing it away. We’re just, you know. We’re going to take some time to grieve before we decide what stuff you want to keep, and what stuff I want to keep, and what we maybe give to her friends and all. Or donate it.”

“There it is.” Maggie pointed an accusing finger at her sister. “Donate. In other words, throw it away, like mom never even lived here.”

“I don’t think the people who get things they _need_ would see it quite the same way, Maggie,” Mel snapped, “anyway, that’s not the issue _now_. Harry said he’d cook. Should we let him, or is someone else going to do it?”

“Again,” Maggie said, hands clenched into fists, “who the hell is Harry?”

“One of mom’s friends from,” Mel pursed her lips. “I have to assume her old school? Or maybe even from high school or college or something?”

“You don’t even _know_ and you want him to _cater_?” Maggie asked.

“To be honest, I was hoping you’d remember which one he was,” Mel muttered. “Maybe we should look him up on mom’s Facebook or something.”

A few minutes later, and the sisters had windows open showcasing all of the guests that fell into the ‘I recognize the name but have no idea who that is’ camp. Most of them, once they put a face to the name, they remembered where their mom had known them from. Lucretia, as it turned out, had been their dance teacher when they were younger, although they’d always called her Tia Tia, and their mom had just called her Tia. Harry, though…

“He looks like every generic white guy in academia,” Mel said, with a skeptical look.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t cook,” Maggie said, popping a cookie into her mouth. (They’d settled on cookies.) “What are his qualifications?”

“A handful of papers and retweeted by Roxanne Gay,” Mel said. “None for cooking.”

“I got retweeted by John Mulaney once,” Maggie said, smugly.

“I know. You didn’t stop talking about it for a week,” Mel said.

“Okay but do we know him?” Maggie asked, to a shrug from her sister.

“Oh, oh no, come on,” Macy said, trying to tug her bag out of the door, where the very edge of the strap had caught. “Don’t do this, I’m already late.”

The bag, though, wouldn’t budge and she had to jiggle the key in the lock three times before it caught on the first tumbler and let her slide the key the rest of the way in. The door itself stuck, too, and she had to give it a swift kick before it would open, letting her bag free abruptly enough that she stumbled. Not chancing it a second time, she took a few steps away, set her bag down, and went back up the walk to lock the door behind her, and at least the process went more smoothly that time. She scooped up her bag as she walked toward the street again, humming to herself. She couldn’t wait to get out of an AirBnB and into a real house – well, an apartment, but Macy could dream.

The architecture wasn’t the major selling point for this place versus her other two job offers, but it was something she’d thought of fondly when she was investigating the different areas, and she walked slowly toward campus so she could look at as many of the buildings as possible. They looked pretty similar to each other, honestly, but the different colors gave them different sorts of personalities, not to mention all the little details from yard to yard. They only really stood out if you stopped to pick out the details, but when she looked, there they were.

Well, one of them stood out because of the number of cars parked out front. She wondered if it was some sort of party, maybe a family reunion? And something about the house seemed familiar, although she couldn’t pick out what. It wasn’t like she’d ever lived anywhere like this; her dad preferred city life, bustling and with a new friend around every corner. She hadn’t inherited his ability to make friends instantly, but she still felt like it was too quiet around here. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She hurried past, wondering how late she was going to be on her first day, but the panic at the end had made up the difference, and she arrived no more than a few minutes late, amidst several other technicians still setting up, and tried hard to blend in.

“Macy!” a voice called, and she tried not to look guilty as she turned around to smile at her boss, but before she could greet him, he interrupted, “you look lovely today.”

Resisting the urge to pull her sweater tighter around her, Macy offered a hand to the taller man. “Professor Thaine, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“I don’t mean this in a sexual harassing way, you understand,” he told her, looking down her blouse, or at least the closest thing possible when Macy was wearing a button-down shirt. “I know you won’t take it that way, you’re not like those giggly little things, but I did find it best to mention. I think it’s alright for coworkers to compliment each other without making it some sort of sexual harassment scandal.”

Macy wondered if her bra was showing through her shirt. She wished Galvin were here to be a human shield, that she’d taken him up on his offer to show her the ropes just so he could stand in front of her for a few minutes. The work she could do fine on her own, and she’d told him so, but at the time she hadn’t realized he might have meant something a little less strictly technical when he offered to come in on his day off, and that advice she might have been happy to have a little clearer.

“All these girls thinking everything is sexual harassment these days,” the man continued, oblivious, “and that poor little Angela, went crazy or something, and after all I did to help advance her academic career. But I’m sure that won’t be a problem with someone like you.”

He wasn’t much taller than Macy but she felt like he was towering over her. She wondered if he was trying to butter her up to get through her defenses, or if he was trying to avoid overt racism, and hoped she’d never be in contact with him long enough to find out.

“Thank you,” she said, having lost track of what he was saying, hoping that it at least made sense in context, and managing to breathe again once he left.

“Yeah, he’ll do that to a person,” a voice said from slightly behind her, and Macy whipped around to a startled, “oops, sorry.”

“No, it’s alright,” Macy said, “um, I’m Macy. Which one is my desk?”

“Amanda,” said the smaller woman, as they shook hands. “It’s over here.”

Maggie opened the door, hoping the next person would take a while to arrive, because she needed ten or fifteen minutes to meditate quietly and try not to scream. She opened the door to a perfectly generic looking white guy in a suit, and figured it must be Harry, given that the rest of the generic white guys weren’t supposed to show up until the day after tomorrow, at the memorial, unless this one was being particularly rude, and he didn’t seem like he was, given that he was handing her some kind of canister of warm drink, which she took, and stared at.

“It’s hot chocolate,” Harry informed her.

“Ohhhhhhh,” Maggie said, then, calling for Mel, “it’s the British guy!”

“What?” Mel said, stepping into the room, a plate of cookies still in her hand.

“It’s the British guy. Harry’s the British guy,” Maggie said.

“I’m the what?” Harry asked.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh,” Mel said, “right, I remember him.”

“He brought hot chocolate,” Maggie said.

“Oh. Right,” Mel agreed. “Well, set it down in the kitchen with the other drinks. I’ve got to…check on…whatever it is I’m cooking.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. Then, to Maggie, “I’ll just go help her, shall I? I’m a fabulous cook, I went to culinary school once. In France.”

“Um, okay, dude,” Maggie said, and went upstairs to see if she could catch her breath before the next guests got there this time.

Macy took a seat across from Galvin, letting her bag drop to the ground with a thump, and then crossed her arms in front of her so her head could follow suit.

“Hey, Mace,” Galvin said, pushing a cup her way. “Did you want your coffee?”

She gulped at it. “First of all,” she took a deep breath, “first of all, do people know about Professor Thaine? Do they know?”

“Um, yeah,” Galvin said. “Charges against him got filed and everything, it’s been in the news, it’s just after one of them was in a coma, the others panicked and left.”

“Oh. Oh great. So people know he’s some kind of serial abuser, but he’s just in charge anyway,” Macy said. “Why a coma?”

“I’m not really clear on that?” Galvin said, “there are like seven different stories in the news. I went to visit her, but obviously the doctors can’t tell me anything.”

“Oh, oh my gosh,” Macy said, sipping her coffee to cover up a blush. “You knew her – know her. The woman in the coma.”

“Yeah, Angela,” Galvin said. “We get a couple of work-study interns every semester. She’s a sweet kid, she put up the motivational posters. We’re all rooting for her.”

“I have to say,” Macy told him, “the work here is _really_ interesting, but I’m not sure I can keep going with that guy in charge.”

“He’s not there most of the time,” Galvin said. “I mean, I totally get it if you can’t work there anymore, but he’ll probably be gone again soon.”

“He’s really shifty,” Macy said. “I mean, he’s acting _really_ weird. I don’t like him.”

“Yeah,” Galvin said, “I’m sorry I wasn’t more helpful about that. I’ll do my best to run interference for you, if you want.”

“You’re going to have to,” Macy said. “He gives me the creeps. Not just the regular creeps either, like someone-walking-over-your-grave creeps.”

“I’ve heard that from a couple people,” Galvin agreed. “I tell you what, let’s take your mind off it. I want to show you the movie theater here, it’s really old, they have a whole little museum of its history. You’ll love it.”

“Absolutely,” Macy said. “I could use something to distract from my day. Anything with magic playing? I want something as far from real life as possible.”

Harry tried to be quiet as he slipped out of his sleeping bag, so as not to wake the woman across from him on the couch. Tia, she’d introduced herself as, and quite friendly to Harry, and he was more worried about waking her than her catching him doing magic, really. Not that he had much magic to himself. He was a whitelighter now, but before he’d been mortal, so witchcraft was beyond his own abilities. In any case, this spell needed to be cast by Marisol’s own magic, and there was only one way of knowing whether she’d cast it before she died.

He picked up the Vera Book of Shadows, and it sat docile in his hands, acting for all intents and purposes like a book. He sighed. This was what he’d been afraid of.

He brought it over to his sleeping bag, set it down, and dug in his bag for the potion. Enough for three tries, no more, so he had to be careful. He poured some of it into a red cup from the party. It looked empty, not that it really mattered. As long as the drink wasn’t magical there wasn’t much it could do to interfere with the potion, and none of the drinks had been magical. He’d been checking, for obvious reasons.

The part he’d thought would be the hardest was actually the easiest, many of Marisol’s possessions lying neatly packed in boxes in the corner. He looked through them, picking out a pair of earrings. Nothing too flashy, but she’d worn them often, and he remembered when she’d enchanted them. It had been a new spell she’d been researching, and she’d cast it herself, so he could be certain it was her magic lying dormant in them.

He hoped they weren’t Mel or Maggie’s favorites. There would be nothing left of them in a few short moments.

He dropped them into the cup where, with a few sparks, they dissolved, leaving behind a silver liquid – pure magic. Marisol’s magic. As quickly as he could, Harry flipped open to an empty page of the book, upending the cup onto it, and whispered the spell Marisol had written as soon as she’d had that first vision, a spell she made sure Harry knew by heart, just in case.

Whispering didn’t work. He spoke a bit more loudly, a bit more clearly, still hoping not to wake up Tia.

“You’re better together. Your differences are your strengths. And nothing is stronger than your sisterhood.”

He held his breath a moment, but nothing happened. Slowly he reached for the book, ready to try again, but it snapped shut on his fingers, and with what _felt_ rather than _sounded_ like a bang, Harry found himself flying across the room and into the wall, the book having hurled itself away from him, now presumably under the dresser in the corner.

Harry’s entire back felt bruised, and he thought at least one of his fingers must be broken. Worse, Tia had woken with a start, and Harry had to explain how tripping and falling could possibly be so loud.

“So how do you know our mom?” Maggie asked.

“Conferences, mostly,” Harry said. “We’ve been in touch a lot, but we never got to see each other in person as much as I would’ve liked. She was brilliant at what she did.”

“Yeah,” Mel said, rearranging the memorial portrait for the hundredth time. “And now they’re going to have to replace her classes. They were really popular, you know.”

“I know,” Harry said. “They’ve actually hired me on – I was supposed to be starting next year, but I managed to clear my obligations.”

“You’re a women’s studies professor?” Mel asked, skeptically.

“Queer studies,” Harry said, “I’m going to adapt Queer Comics, but it just won’t be the same without her. I’ll do my best with the curriculum she set out. It’s a wonderful selection.”

“Won’t be the same from your perspective,” Mel said, and shrugged.

Harry sighed. “I know. We lost so much more than just her when we lost her.”

“Oh!” Maggie said. “My sixth birthday. Just after Ray left.”

“Right!” Mel said, “you were the one mom got to come make her a cake!”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said, “well, she’d said he promised you a homemade cake, and you were devastated not to get one. The least she could do was borrow a father figure for you.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Maggie said, “you made a pretty good rent-a-dad, actually.”

“The balloon animals!” Mel said.

“Yes, the, the balloon dogs, right,” Maggie said, “oh, he made me a hat!”

“Okay there will be absolutely no balloon animals at the funeral,” Mel told him, narrowing her eyes. “Maybe at the memorial.”

“Understood,” Harry agreed.

“That might be kind of nice for the memorial, actually,” Maggie said. “I mean, it would cheer people up, right? Like there’s no reason you inherently have to be sad at a memorial.”

“No, that’s true,” Mel said, “cross culturally there are actually a lot of traditions where you’re supposed to be happy when you celebrate someone’s memory.”

Harry blinked at the two of them. “So you…want balloon animals?”

“Right,” the sisters said, in unison.

“And that’s why we always keep a backup in the orange cabinet,” Macy’s coworker (Amanda) said, “hard copies can be vital in a time crunch.”

“Right,” Macy said, writing yet another note in the front section of her agenda, “and what about food? It’s just I saw someone eating in here.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll have a talk with him,” Amanda said, “again. But, yeah, you heard right, we’re supposed to be eating in the break area, or we can use the conference room if it’s crowded. There’s actually a nice set of picnic benches but it’s been raining.”

“Oh, those are ours?” Macy said, “I thought they belonged to next door.”

Amanda grinned, “yeah, technically I think it’s the whole complex, but no one else ever uses it. When it’s a nice day, I love eating out there. Sunlight. Breezes. None of the coworkers who annoy me, who all insist on eating inside with the TV….”

“Huh,” Macy said. “What’s on the TV?”

“Oddly enough, that’s not actually the point,” Amanda said, “video game tournament, popular show of the week, sometimes just music. Always the same people, though.”

Macy reached for her phone, then stopped, surprised to find it right by her hand. She thought she’d put it on the other side of the desk. “Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Oh, yeah, I love weird questions,” Amanda said. “I don’t usually know the answer, but it’s all kinds of fun to look up, I don’t know, squid ink or whatever.”

“Right. Yeah. Do you know her?” Macy said, and held up her phone, with a picture of Marisol Vera right in the center. Macy had looked up Angela Wu, worried about the whole story, and ended up finding the suspicious death of the professor who’d been helping her. The picture was taken in front of the same house that had made Macy nervous before, but she wasn’t about to mention that, even if Amanda seemed really nice. Marisol herself gave Macy the feeling that something wasn’t quite right, and that was the real issue.

“Oh,” said Amanda, looking sad, “that’s professor Vera. I took my English credit with her, she was great. I can’t believe she just…fell off the roof like that. It’s horrible.”

“She was helping Angela Wu,” Macy said, but even as she did, the connection rang hollow. She couldn’t put into words why she thought it was important, and wondered, not for the first time, if she was making things up to fit some kind of narrative.

“Oh, god, really?” Amanda said, “that’s awful, first Angela gets hurt like that, and then Professor Vera gets killed? It’s like this entire town is cursed or something.”

“Or _Thaine_ is cursing them,” Macy muttered, under her breath.

Amanda snorted and laughed into her notebook.

“And we are all so bummed to hear!” said yet another pledge, handing Maggie yet another gift basket.

“Thanks,” Maggie said, then, to Lucy, “did you make them do this?”

“Absolutely not,” Lucy said, “I said, and I said this to all the sisters, that we should get together and host some kind of event to make you feel better. And what I told them was of course we shouldn’t get you gifts, because it’s not exactly a celebration is it, and that if they were going to get gifts, they should give them to Angela Wu, who needs them a lot more than you do, if she’s ever going to get better, knock on wood. But that you wouldn’t appreciate that in the same way, because you’re not sick, hello, your mother died? But some of them got together to get one for you anyway and everyone else is trying to one up them to look good to us.”

“Oh,” Maggie said.

“ _Anyway_ ,” Lucy said, “we’re calling this the Professor Vera Memorial Brunch, but of course we’re not going to talk about your mom unless you want us to okay? It’s just an egg white omelette bar and mimosas, but don’t mention the mimosas to the school, you know how they are, and after that the baking competish what are you making you never told me?”

“Oh,” Maggie said, brightening considerably, “I’m making flourless chocolate cookies from one of my mom’s recipes, it’s one of my favorites she ever made.”

“Oh, I _love_ flourless cookies,” Lucy said, “my cousin, she’s celiac, couldn’t have any gluten for the longest time, and so her whole family went gluten free, but this was way before it was popular, you know? Like they were just doing it purely to support her, not to lose weight or show off or anything, and it was the absolute hardest for them, just heartbreaking, so eventually I started doing it to, like I wanted her to have someone to talk to about it, you know? And I’ve been gluten free ever since except for weekends.”

Maggie let the conversation flow over her, happy that Lucy was the one of the sisters who had taken Maggie under her wing. It was bad enough being shy, because she’d always been kind of shy but she was learning to deal with that, but when something like this happened – it was hard to get back to just small talk. But Lucy? Lucy made it easy. She knew exactly when to break in conversation and when to keep going, when to ask a question and when to assert something you couldn’t help but argue with. Maggie thought she’d make an amazing therapist once she was finished school.

That was when Lucy laid a consoling hand on Maggie’s arm and she heard, over the monologue, _Poor Maggie she must be devastated I don’t even know what I’d do if my mom died and she might with the way she’s been stress drinking I can’t believe dad sometimes but my shrink said this was coming back in third grade I should have listened to her –_

Maggie gasped and pulled away.

“Oh gosh,” Lucy said, “I’m sorry! Is it because you’re grieving? I should ask about touching again while someone’s grieving. It can be really personal. We all grieve in our own ways, do you need space, Maggie?”

Maggie, holding her breath, nodded.

“No more hugs for Maggie,” Lucy called to the pledges and sisters, “her process requires a personal bubble today. Snaps for Maggie instead!”

Everyone moved a few steps back and snaps filled the room.

“I’m _fine,_ Niko, I’m fine,” Mel said, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yeah, says the streak of mustard in your hair,” Niko told her.

“So?” Mel said, “I have a house full of guests right now – ”

“And someone who said he’d be happy to take over the catering,” Niko reminded her, “you’ve got to take care of yourself. You’re working too hard.”

“Yeah, but I,” Mel took a deep breath. “I think mom’s death was suspicious. You say I’m becoming overly invested in the investigation. Okay. But I need to distract myself if I’m going to take that step back. And. Right now I have a bunch of people to distract me. You know?”

“I know you have _me_ to distract you,” Niko said, softly. “You know I’m going to be here regardless, right?”

“It’s not,” Mel huffed in frustration, “you can be here, but it’s, it’s not different. A bunch of people most of whom I haven’t seen in years? That’s different. Right?”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Niko said. “But, hey, if it’s helping you.”

“I,” Mel said. “It’s helping. Right?”

“Well, alright,” Niko said, “let’s – we can make a pro and con list, right?”

“Niko,” Mel said, with a small laugh.

“No, really,” Niko said, “let’s try it. Why is it better?”

“It’s like,” Mel said, “if I have the tasks, I’m getting out of bed – oh, that’s just depression isn’t it? Are these depression sandwiches? Am I depression cooking?”

“Why sandwiches?” Niko said, “why not anything else?”

“I mean, I can’t make anything else,” Mel said, “not without setting a giant network of timers, which, I don’t think I have the mental energy. This is the only, you know, _easy_ food I know how to make. Or maybe soup. Maggie said to make soup.”

“Wait, Maggie told you to make soup? Why?” Niko asked.

“No, it was, it’s like. Comforting. She wanted to comfort me,” Mel said.

Niko wrapped her arms around Mel and rested a head on her shoulder. “Well, is soup comforting? I can make you soup. I can make everyone soup, if you want.”

“No,” Mel said, “the soup comforts Maggie, not me. Not eating soup, I mean, making it. Like, stirring things into it. It’s soothing for her. Me, I guess it’s the sandwiches.”

“Doing something,” Niko said, “I think that’s it. Tasks broken down, you know exactly what you’re doing, and who you’re doing it for. You want to do something good for someone.”

“That’s bad?” Mel asked, raising an eyebrow.

Niko gave her a kiss on the ear. “It’s bad if you’re not taking care of yourself. Have you eaten at all today?”

“I had breakfast with everyone else,” Mel said, “and I’m _going_ to have lunch, I have…a date…with Niko….”

“Yeah,” Niko said, laughing, “your date with Niko awaits.”

“You’ve been here for more than an _hour_ ,” Mel said, “you couldn’t have mentioned?”

Niko shrugged. “Go take a quick shower, before the mustard dries in your hair. And wear something comfy, we’re going to go for a long walk, get the endorphins flowing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mel said, but took Niko’s advice, showering as quickly as she could, and putting on looser pants than her jeans and a comfy t-shirt. A walk sounded helpful right now, actually. Maybe they could find someplace romantic to do it, and not just…keep her spirits up or whatever Niko was probably trying to find motivational slogans for.

“What, getting the blood pumping is,” Niko said, “oh, did you not shower?”

“I just showered quickly is all,” Mel said, “if you’re making me go for a run – don’t lie, it’ll turn into a run – I’m going to have to shower later anyway.”

Niko looked confused for a moment, then followed Mel out of the house.

Macy fumbled with a slide, trying to get the rusty arm on the microscope to hold it. She’d had to move it out of place to clean the damn thing (whoever had it last was not in her good books), and now it wouldn’t go back. And not only that, but it was bent in such a way that it was preventing the slide from even sitting on the base.

“So what di-”

Macy yelped, and the microscope, along with an entire case of slides, crashed to the floor. She stared in horror.

“Oh no,” Galvin said, recovering from his shock enough to look for the broom, which wasn’t in its designated spot at all.

“Oh crap,” Amanda repeated, having poked her head out of the other room. “Did Kretz ‘forget’ to put the non-slip mats on the workspace again? Kretz!”

“I’ll put the broom back in a minute,” a voice called out from the far corner.

“Damn it Kretz! Did you put down _any_ of the mats you were supposed to?” Amanda said, “what the hell have you been doing?”

“Uh, I’ve been doing my _actual_ job, _intern_ ,” Kretz said, “which is a lot more complicated than yours. And for your information, I _did_ put a mat under the coffeemaker.”

Well, Macy thought, in his defense, it did suck to spill hot coffee all over you, and could be pretty dangerous when hot enough, or else if you slipped. Coffee pot glass was just as sharp as any other glass, after all.

Kretz turned to her, eyeing her up and down. “Alright. New Girl. Do you, uh, need a hand with the microscopes? I know they can be. Tricky.”

“They wouldn’t be _nearly_ as tricky if you’d put the mats down,” Amanda snapped.

“Wasn’t talking to you,” he said, and leaned onto the counter, “how about it?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Galvin said, “sweep up, will you, Kretz?”

“That’s not my –”

“Kretz,” Galvin said, “please. Just sweep up.”

Macy found herself wishing he’d accidentally set his arm down in glass, which by all rights he should have, not even looking where he was leaning. And, as if in response to her, she watched a small piece of glass slide toward him, which she might have been able to excuse, except it then zipped up into the air and lodged itself near his elbow. Just a tiny little piece of glass, but it had caught the light. Macy _saw_ it. She knew what she saw.

“Macy?” Galvin asked.

“Um, yes,” Macy said. “No. What did you say?”

Galvin’s mouth quirked up. “I said, you should probably come work at the other station, the one that _has_ the rubber mats. And also, I asked you to dinner.”

“Dinner!” Macy said.

Galvin, looking panicked, said, “as friends!”

Kretz could be heard swearing in the background.

“This is,” Macy said, searching for the word.

“Over the top?” Galvin said, “a little too romantic?”

“No,” Macy said, “no, it’s. I mean it’s kind of romantic, but it’s nice, right? It’s like…fancy. Pretty. I mean there’s a family right over there it’s not that romantic.”

Galvin looked over in the direction Macy gestured, but the family in question was hard to miss, taking up such a large table. There were a dozen adults – although several of them were young adults, maybe even high schoolers – and several children. Of course, they weren’t the only family; it wasn’t _that_ romantic, even if many of the tables were taken by couples who were clearly busy flirting with each other.

“No, no,” Galvin said. “There’s, uh. I mean those two are clearly business acquaintances or something.”

Macy turned to follow his gaze, and called out in surprise, “dad?”

Galvin hurried after her as she walked toward him, irritation in her step, and stopped a slight distance away, unsure whether he should be involved.

“Dad,” Macy said, “what are you doing here? I thought you promised not to check up on me. Are you asking other people to check up on me, because that violates the spirit.”

“Sweetheart?” Macy’s dad said, clearly confused. “Why are you here?”

“I’m on a date – I mean, I’m having dinner with Galvin,” Macy said.

“Galvin,” said her father, “is he here too?”

“Yes?” Macy said, “remember, I said I was moving out to where Galvin lived, and you said at least I would know someone?”

“Since when has Galvin lived in Hilltown?” her father asked.

“Since…always?” Macy said, “I mean, when he moved away, that’s where he moved.”

At this, Galvin stepped a little closer, ready to offer moral support to Macy, if necessary, though she seemed to be doing fine, at least, as far as he could follow the conversation. “Um. Hello, Mr. Vaughn.”

“Galvin!” her father said, with a bright smile, “you’re looking well – keeping my daughter busy with genetics once again, eh? You two always were good lab partners. And please, Dexter, we’ve known each other for practically ever.”

“Dexter,” Galvin repeated. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Dexter said, “I thought you’d moved out to New York, or Jersey?”

Galvin nodded. “Yeah, I was in New York for about six months, that was always temporary, that was another branch of the same company, then I came out here.”

“How’s my daughter doing with her new job?” Dexter asked, winking at Macy, “if that’s not too checking up on you, anyway.”

Galvin laughed awkwardly. “Yeah, she um. She’s settling in well. Good at. Everything.”

“Why are you _here_ , dad?” Macy said.

Her father’s face fell. “Oh, I’m in town for a funeral. Someone I uh – I loved her very much, but we hadn’t been able to see each other for – ”

“Oh my god, is it my _mom_?” Macy asked, “you showed up in _my town_ to go to _my mom’s_ funeral, and you didn’t even tell me?”

“In my defense, I didn’t think this was where you had moved,” Dexter said, “your forwarding address is on the other side of the state.”

“No it’s not! It’s just a remaindered zip code, stop changing the subject,” Macy said.

“Yes, honey, it’s your mom,” Dexter said.

Macy let out a huff. “Okay, I still think you should’ve told me, but that’s alright, we can go together. At least now I don’t have to go through the awkward part of meeting her.”

“You would have to meet her daughters, though,” said Macy’s father’s dinner companion, with a heavy English accent.

“You remember Harry,” Dexter said.

“No? Should I?” Macy told him. “Wait – are you the social worker?”

Harry looked confused. “No? I was never a social worker.”

Macy, suddenly embarrassed, turned to Galvin. “Right – we should get a table? Goodnight, dad! Goodnight, Harry-not-a-social-worker!”

“Yeah,” Galvin said as they walked back to the front, to ask to be seated, for real this time. He asked Macy, “I thought your mom was already dead, a while ago?”

Macy waved it away. “No, she just wasn’t ready to have a family, so my dad moved away to raise me by himself. They stayed in touch and all, she just wasn’t ready to be a mom until, maybe a few years later, I guess, if she has kids after all.”

“Oh, that’s, uh, that kind of sucks,” he said, frowning.

“Yeah,” Macy agreed, “ _shit_ I should’ve asked whose funeral we’re going to.”

Maggie looked around the room, wondering when was socially appropriate to break up with Brian, because he was sweet and all, and obviously she couldn’t break up with him _today_ and the lead up had been him trying to help her grieve and saying he had a big surprise for their anniversary, and this was a really nice restaurant and she appreciated it, really she did, but like. It was _her_ mourning she was going through, not his, so it wasn’t like – bad for her to not wait until it was over to dump him. Was it?

“You look really beautiful tonight,” he said, with his soulful puppy eyes.

“Thanks,” Maggie said, and then, because he’d clearly been careful to wear a nice coat to look good for her, “you too.”

How she was ever going to actually tell him it was over, she had no idea. It was like he was hanging on her every word. Even when she brushed her hand against his and that voiceover started up in her head again, it was still stuff about how she was super hot and he was in love and sometimes even stuff about getting married? And that was just not happening. She could not marry Brian. She would have to jump off a bridge.

And anyway, if her paranormal romance novels were right, the fact that she was developing some kind of psychic ability meant she was about to have a love triangle with two super hot guys any time now, so she did have to free herself up for that. Two vampires from the same bloodline, or two werewolves whose packs had a tenuous peace but it all went to hell when the Alphas started fighting over her and she had to negotiate a new treaty herself, presumably with her cool psychic powers. Or maybe like. An angel and a demon. It depended on what kind of universe she’d found herself thrown into.

“Are you enjoying your food?” Brian asked, tilting his head in that innocent little way, the one she’d loved at first but now kind of wanted to slap him for.

“Yeah,” Maggie said, “it’s awesome.”

She looked around the room, wondering what she could talk about. What was good dinner small talk, interesting, but not enough to make it seem like she wanted to be around Brian forever? She hoped he didn’t have a ring. There was nothing, though, just some huge get together with two white guys she recognized from English, and what was clearly their parents, and like – cousins? Friends of the family? Some other family units, anyway.

An argument caught her attention and she looked over, raising an eyebrow – was that Harry? With some guy in a suit like he’d just come off a plane, not that any sane person got a fancy dinner right after a flight, because like, wouldn’t you go to a hotel or something? What was the point of a fancy vacation otherwise? She tried not to eavesdrop, but it was some juicy drama going on where the daughter was upset the father followed her into town and didn’t tell her about a funeral? But then it turned out to be her mom, which, wow, harsh, but that meant the other guy definitely wasn’t Harry, what would be the odds of two of his friends dying right in a row in the same town, anyway? Like, his life would majorly suck, more than Maggie’s.

Then, across the room, she spotted Mel and Niko. Maggie rolled her eyes. Hadn’t they _just_ had a lunch date? And now this? They were swooning over each other, too, feeding each other bits of their dinner, just a really grotesque display of shmoopiness. Maggie missed when she and Brian had been at that stage. Mel and Niko were going to be at it _forever_. Also, who was taking care of all their guests then? Maggie sent a quick text to check if everything was alright, or if maybe, pretty please, someone needed her.

“Niko,” Mel said, smacking her lightly on the arm, “too much.”

“Not too much,” Niko said. “I told you, you need to take some time for you. The way you find your way back to normal is to do things normal you would do.”

“I don’t think normal me would pay this much for dinner,” Mel said.

“I’m paying,” Niko told her. “Anyway, Marisol always said you should spoil yourself while you have the chance, because otherwise you miss all the opportunities.”

“Yeah, well,” Mel said, shifting in her seat. “I already promised to get manicures and stuff later this week. And Maggie will come too, or she’ll be jealous.”

“Okay, but you can’t send Maggie to distract me again,” Niko said, “and then just bail on the whole thing because ‘something came up’.”

“Something always comes up!” Mel said, “I’m trying, right? I’m trying. Look, I’ll even get the special, this over the top ravioli thing, right? And chocolate cake for dessert.”

“Now we’re talking,” Niko said, “tell me about the books.”

Mel smiled softly. “Okay, you know Uncle Lawrence is in the Book Nook?”

Niko nodded.

Mel laughed. “So he’s looking through the witches section – he loves witchcraft stuff, you know, has all the candles and all – and he found this new book? Like an old book, but he hadn’t seen it before. I hadn’t either, mom must have got it really recently. And it’s like a diary or something, has all kinds of ideas about spells and stuff.”

“Spells?” Niko said, “like recipes and cauldrons and all?”

“No, like,” Mel huffed, “I guess you say them?”

“Oh, right, Levio _sa_ not Levi _o_ sa,” Niko said, swishing her hand through the air.

“No, it’s not like Latin or anything,” Mel said, thinking through how to explain it, “it’s like,” she waved her hands in frustration, and Niko froze. “Niko?”

Mel looked around the room, slowly, feeling like everyone had frozen, but then she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, which was the woman who’d had some sort of argument with her dad, and then she let out a breath of relief when she saw the whole table on the end happily chatting away, hands waving enthusiastically, and Niko was right, she really did need to take some time to unwind and all, she was seeing things.

“Mel?” Niko said.

Mel smiled at her. “Let’s try this artichoke dip, too, I think.”

“Thank you,” Mel said, to yet another undergrad she didn’t recognize, and sat down to take a break from well-wishers.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, handing Mel a mug of hot cocoa.

“Yeah,” Mel said, “thank you for catering.”

“Of course,” Harry said, then, as someone called him over, disappeared to help with the buffet again.

“You really okay?” Auntie Deb said, rubbing Mel’s shoulder.

Mel sighed, rolling her neck. “No. It’s, you know, it’s hard. Especially for Maggie, I think, she’d really like for Ray to be here.”

“My brother can be pretty enraging to deal with,” Auntie Deb agreed.

“So it’s like,” Mel said, “it’s like – every time I hit a snag, I do, you know, where you take a deep breath and think of who you can ask for help before you panic? Only I always think of mom, and that’s like. Ridiculous. Like. Why can’t I remember that she’s gone?”

“Oh, darling,” Deb said, and wrapped her niece in a hug. “It just takes time, that’s all. It always takes time to adjust to a new standard. And I’m here as long as you need me.”

“Oh no,” Mel deadpanned, “but half of what I need help with is your family.”

Deb laughed. “Drink your cocoa, brat.”

Mel did, watching her cousins mingle awkwardly with students and teachers, more people who worked with her mom than were friends with her really, and Mel felt a little lonely. Most of her social life was on campus too, and most of it not close relationships. Would anyone even keep talking to her if she just…quit school?

“Mel?” Maggie asked, “do you know if dad’s coming?”

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, “I don’t think he is. He never RSVP’d, and Auntie Deb hasn’t heard a thing. You can ask Pepe if you want.”

“Yeah, okay,” Maggie said, and wandered off to ask Pepe.

Mel bit her lip. Maggie was looking more drawn than usual, and she hadn’t even done anything with her hair today, just pulled it back in a pin. Not even one of mom’s pins, or one she gave Maggie, just a plain black one. Moreover, she was going to try to get information out of Pepe, information she actually cared if she got. Mel wondered if she should back up her sister for that kind of thing, when another undergrad showed up.

“Hey,” he said, “I’m Chris. My condolences on your mom. She was a great teacher.”

“What class did you take with my mom?” Mel asked, skeptically.

“I was taking History of Women’s Magazines?” Chris said, “I’m only a freshman, I didn’t take anything before. She was just, you know, really engaging. Sorry for your loss.”

Mel stared at him while he walked away. Of course. Yet another person who saw ‘magazine’ and thought it was a blow off class, or else he was taking it to pick up chicks, because _that_ landed well with women’s studies majors.

Then she wondered who was teaching the class. She hadn’t bothered to check who was taking over for her mom, except Harry had said he was but probably not that one – she stopped thinking about it. It wasn’t important. Today was the funeral, the memorial, and then dinner with the family, and then after that it was TAing her class and writing her thesis and trying to make sure Maggie didn’t get in trouble.

“You okay?” Niko asked, planting a kiss on Mel’s temple.

“Stop asking,” Mel muttered, halfheartedly.

“Hmm,” Niko said, “how about this. We’ll play a game – and I have a big advantage on this one being a professional detective – let’s guess people’s secrets.”

“I don’t like this game,” Mel said, “it seems invasive.”

“Okay, let’s guess their personalities, then,” Niko said, “it’s all the same, really.”

“I can do that,” Mel said, pointing to someone standing at the corner of the buffet, almost behind a plant. “She’s a student of my mom’s I think – shy, but empathetic. Studious.”

“Studious?” Niko said.

“She has a notebook, right?” Mel said, “I mean, she’s either studying, or like, writing? Maybe she’s a journalist. Or a novelist.”

“Yeah, probably,” Niko agreed. “How about him? I think he tries to be real suave but he’s secretly kind of goofy, and likes, I don’t know, something unpopular. Baseball.”

“Ugh, that’s Pepe,” Mel said. “He does like a lot of unpopular things, but they’re like, art films. I’m pretty sure he hates baseball, like everyone else.”

“Why did he make Maggie cry?” Niko said. “Wait, is that the shitty boyfriend?”

“Brian’s not that bad,” Mel said, “and no, that’s our cousin, who probably just told her Ray for sure isn’t coming.”

“Oh, damn, should we go after her?” Niko asked.

“Give her a minute,” Mel said, “she probably just wants to be alone.”

“Hey, little Magpie,” a voice said.

Maggie looked up, mascara still running, but drying into stiff streaks. She pulled out a makeup wipe to smudge them away. “Tia Tia?”

“I won’t do you the disservice of asking if you’re alright, but is there anything I can help you with?” Tia asked.

“Not unless you can magically make my dad appear,” Maggie said.

“Well, I can do this,” Tia said, and a shimmering figure of her dad appeared above Tia’s cupped hands. He smiled, but the image was static.

“You’re magic, too!” Maggie said.

“A witch,” Tia said, “most of my power’s tied up in little illusions like that, though. I do pretty good work with potions, help with minor aches and pains.”

“But it’s like, a special power?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, yes, someone in my family has it every generation,” Tia said, beaming, “my mom could do it, my nephew can do it, and we think his daughter might be able to, too.”

“That’s so cool!” Maggie said, “does that mean mom could read minds?”

“Is that what you can do, Magpie?” Tia asked. “Must be hard, around here.”

“You’re telling me,” Maggie said, “every time I brush up against someone, it’s all kinds of stuff about how sad it is about my mom, like I don’t know it’s sad. Or else it’s about like, how they feel obligated to be here, or they’re worried they don’t look sad enough, or good enough, or they’re trying to network. And some people are only here for the food, too.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tia said. “Can I hug you? Or will that make it worse?”

“Probably shouldn’t,” Maggie said, “it’s like…a boatload of information. And a lot of it’s stuff I didn’t want to know, you know? Like I didn’t need to see Niko naked, even in my brain.”

Tia smiled. “I’m sorry, Magpie. Do you want me to bring you some food or something to drink? I won’t tell anyone you’re in here.”

“Nah,” Maggie said, “can’t leave Mel out there alone, right?”

“Maggie!” Lucy called, as soon as she stepped around the corner. The crowd surrounding her let out loud snaps.

“Oh. Hey,” Maggie said.

“We’ve all come here to support you,” Lucy said, “we know how hard a time it is for you, and if there’s anything we can do, you just have to ask. In fact! Afterwards, we’re all going to clean up in here.”

A few groans could be heard, but mostly more snaps, and a few, “we’re so proud of you Maggie! You’re doing real good!”

“Thank you,” Maggie said. “Could you, uh, I think Harry needs help pouring drinks? He’s the British guy over there.”

“Of course!” Lucy said, followed by air kisses. “Anything in your time of need.”

Maggie watched the crowd depart with a sigh, all of them careful not to touch her, and steeled herself to go relieve Mel.

On her way there, she bumped into the guy from her English class, whose thoughts were a running commentary on _but if it’s about utilitarianism then some of the facts don’t add up_ before he sprang back, a sheepish smile on his face.

An _adorable_ sheepish smile. Maggie sighed again.

“Sorry about that,” he said, running a hand through his messy blond curls, “I should watch where I’m going. Everyone says I’m a daydreamer.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, “daydreams.”

“I’m Wyatt?” he said, and held out a hand.

“Maggie,” Maggie said, shaking. “You knew Marisol?”

“Oh, I didn’t,” Wyatt said, “she like…worked with my dad or something, I guess. He was really shocked and upset. Came back just to be here for the funeral and all.”

“Oh,” said Maggie, “it’s nice your dad would want to be with you for like. Emotional events. That’s nice.”

“Yeah,’ Wyatt said, “he’s gone basically all the time on business, so he’s spent a couple days with us. To be honest, if Mom and us hadn’t moved out here, I don’t think he would’ve visited us, probably just went to the memorial without us.”

Yeah, Maggie thought, I know how that feels. “Did you get anything to eat?”

“I got some pasta salad,” Wyatt said. “You?”

“Oh, I’ve been too busy, you know, greeting and hostessing to eat,” Maggie said, “which is probably why I have a headache.” That, and other people’s thoughts all day.

“Oh, shit,” Wyatt said, gesturing to one of the photos, “your mom?”

Maggie nodded.

“Oh, that sucks _ass_ Maggie, I’m sorry,” Wyatt said.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed.

“Okay, well, I’ll let you get something to eat,” Wyatt said. “See you around.”

“English!” Maggie said.

“What?” Wyatt asked.

“You, uh, we take English together,” Maggie said.

“Cool!” Wyatt said, and grinned again. “Okay, see you in English.”

Macy hugged her dad back as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, sniffling slightly, but not crying again. He was telling another story about their days together, one she hadn’t heard before, about feeding the ducks. There wasn’t much to it, just that Dexter kept repeating himself and stopping partway through sentences. Macy sat him down and went to get him a cup of coffee, and a small plate of various finger foods.

“Oh,” he said, as she passed them to him, “thank you, baby girl, I didn’t even think to get something to eat.”

“You know what? I’m going to get you a water, too, hold on,” she said, and hurried back to grab him a water bottle.

She reached over to grab a water bottle, a little bit far past the people crowding the table, but she’d always had a longer reach than she gave herself credit for, and a moment later her hands closed around a bottle – only she must have misjudged, because the entire stack of them fell over onto the floor.

Behind where the display used to be, two women looked over, startled, as Macy scrambled to prop the bottles back up, and heard a voice behind her.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll get it,” in an English accent.

Right. This was the not-a-social-worker guy. “Thanks,” Macy said.

The two women had gone back to their conversation, an argument about _telling them_ or _not telling them yet_ , and Macy wasn’t really interested in the outcome. She tried to avoid the eyes of the other woman, still watching her since she’d accidentally made a scene. She hurried back over to her dad, and handed him the water bottle.

He drank from it slowly, sipping, and not saying much of anything, though he brightened somewhat when the English guy came back.

“Harry,” Dexter said, and Macy thought, right, Harry.

Harry took her dad’s hand, and asked, very solicitously, “how are you doing?”

Macy looked at their intertwined hands and wondered for a moment.

Her dad interrupted her ruminations with, “as well as can be expected, I suppose. Knowing it’s coming doesn’t really do much to help you prepare.”

Which Macy thought was odd, because she’d thought the woman had fallen out a window, not been sick, but she wasn’t really asking anyone, so she might well have the details wrong. She stared at a portrait, trying to mimic the face that her birth mother was making in it, and didn’t feel like she was succeeding, no matter how much her dad told her she had her mom’s smile. She rubbed his back as he began crying again, this time into Harry’s shoulder.

When Maggie went to give Mel a quick hug, her sister was thinking _I can’t believe they showed up just for the food Niko should throw them in jail_ , and Maggie had to chastise her.

“What?” Mel said, “I didn’t say anything.”

“I know you didn’t _say_ it,” Maggie said, rolling her eyes, “but you thought it, and Mel, they’re just, they’re college students. They’re hungry. Mom would want them to have free food. It’s not like she never – ”

“Yeah, yeah, had to scrounge food from events all throughout school, I get it,” Mel said, “it’s still disrespectful. They could at least pretend to be sad.”

“Mel!” Maggie said, immediately after, as her sister thought something unkind at _her_ too, and pulled away. “I know you’re grieving, but goddamn.”

“What now?” Mel asked.

“Um,” said Maggie, “stop thinking such hurtful things at me, for a start, and also, is this really the place to be imagining what you’re doing with Niko once you get home, which you can’t, because if you remember, we’re sharing a bed right now?”

“ _What_?” said Mel, “Maggie, _what_ are you trying to pull?”

“Look, I can’t shut it off yet,” Maggie said, “I’m sorry for judging, I was doing it too earlier, I just don’t want to see yours, you know?”

Mel raised an eyebrow, “why were you fantasizing about my girlfriend?”

“Not Niko!” Maggie waved her hands, “a guy in my English class. It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, but why are you fantasizing about Niko _now_?” Mel asked.

“I’m not! You are!” Maggie tugged at her hair, accidentally pulling the hairpin loose.

“How would you possibly know that?” Mel asked.

“Uh, from my mindreading, duh?” Maggie said, “haven’t you been hearing people’s thoughts all day?”

“Uh, no, because I’m not insane,” Mel said, “you can’t hear thoughts, Maggie.”

“I can too,” Maggie said, “because I’m a witch, and you’re a witch, and mom was a witch, and she gave us telepathy powers and they’ve become stronger because she…probably willed us her powers or something, I haven’t figured that one out yet.”

Mel sighed. “Maggie we’re not wi –”

Both the sisters yelped as they were dragged around a corner, catching their breath again when they realized it was just Uncle Lawrence.

“You can’t just go around saying you’re witches in public,” he whispered, furiously, then more soothingly, “let me help with your hairpin, Mags.”

Maggie handed over the pin and gathered up her hair, holding it still so he could pin in back in place. “But we are witches.”

“I _know that_ ,” he told them, “the entire Vera line is, but you can’t talk about it where other people can hear you, do you want the Cleaners to come?”

Maggie tried to puzzle this out, while Mel just gave him a scathing look.

“Do some magic then,” Mel snapped, crossing her arms.

“Okay, but just something small,” he said, holding a tiny sparking ball of lightning in his hand, which winked out just as suddenly, as a booming voice spoke.

“Mel, Maggie, both looking astonishing tonight,” Professor Thaine said, and tried to grab Mel’s hand to kiss it.

She yanked it away. “Go fuck yourself.”

“I’m just trying to offer you my condolences about your dear mother. She was a lovely woman,” the man said, leaning over to convince them of his sincerity.

“A woman who was trying to send you to _jail_ ,” Mel said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, “Go fuck yourself with a _cactus_.”

“I was acquitted!” the man sputtered.

“Of fucking yourself with a cactus?” Maggie said, eyes going wide.

Lucy hi-fived her as the man turned on his heel, then immediately said, “oh no, I’m sorry, are you still no on touching?”

“Mostly,” Maggie said, but since Lucy’s only thought had been _what a fucking creep_ it didn’t really matter so much.

“I don’t think he should be here _at all_ ,” Lucy said, “do you want me to get you something to eat or are you okay for now?”

“Hey, I had a question – ”

Mel looked at the strange man for a minute, assessing. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Anton Sodom,” he said, “I had a question about – ”

“Anton _Sodom_?” Mel said, “what kind of name is _that_?”

“You _know_ what kind,” he said, exasperated, “I had a que–”

“I don’t have time for this,” Mel said, and turned away, immediately bumping into someone, who started apologizing profusely.

“Is he bothering you?” Macy asked, in a low voice, “he was talking to me earlier and I think he was asking me if I wanted to be, you know, in a _film_.”

“What, like a porn film?” Mel said, “what a creep.”

“Here, let’s just,” Macy said, “laugh like I said something and let’s go over to the coffee.” She hooked her arm around Mel’s.

Mel laughed, loudly, and the pair began walking as quickly as they could over to the drinks table, where Macy, this time, didn’t knock anything over, just grabbing two Styrofoam cups and turning to ask what Mel wanted to drink.

“Hey, um, hey – shit,” Macy tapped Mel on the shoulder. “I didn’t get your name?”

“Mel,” she said, and accepted one of the cups. “Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself in the, let’s say confusion.”

Macy laughed. “Yeah, confusion. I’m Macy. Did you want – coffee, tea, hot chocolate, I think I saw cider before but that might be somewhere else.”

“I want coffee,” Mel said, “but I think I may have had too much? It’s been a hell of a day. So, tea, I guess?”

“Sounds good,” Macy said, reaching for the tea, and pouring it into both cups, “I think I’ll have some too.”

“Did that just move?” Mel asked.

“What?” Macy said.

“The tea,” Mel said, “it moved on its own.”

“No it didn’t,” Macy said, “why would it do that? How _could_ it do that?”

Mel leaned in and whispered, “are you a witch?”

“What?” Macy said, her brow furrowing. “You think I did…magic? To the tea?”

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, taking the cup, “my sister – she was going on about how we were witches, and a family legacy, and doing magic, and I think it’s the grief, you know? She’s going through a lot, I guess it’s getting to me. A weird day, you know. A long and weird day.”

“You’re telling me,” Macy said, “my dad’s been inconsolable all day, I’m trying my best, but it’s like – this Marisol lady is his one true love, his lost love or whatever, and to top it off, technically my mom? Which I only just found out.”

“Your _what_?” Mel said.

“Oh, it’s like, when I was little my mom got pregnant accidentally and she wasn’t ready to raise a kid yet, but my dad really wanted a kid,” Macy said, “so she signed over custody and all and my dad raised me by himself. She sent birthday cards and stuff, but I never met her or talked to her or anything.”

“I see,” Mel said.

“I mean, I thought it was nice, she sent me your classic Dr. Seuss for my high school graduation, wrote me a little message and stuff, but I never really thought of her as my mom, you know?” Macy said, “so I’m waiting for the grief to kick in but for now it’s just kind of confusing? Sorry for unloading this all on you, I feel like we met in a past life or something.”

“What?” Mel said.

“Oh, god, that was really weird,” Macy said, “I’m sorry, it’s just, like, a religious thing, do you believe in destiny?”

“Not really,” Mel said, “but I know what you’re talking about. That’s not it. Marisol was _my_ mom, mine and Maggie’s. She never mentioned you.”

“I don’t know why she would,” Macy said. “Like I said, I’m not even really her daughter, just someone she helped give birth to, more like a midwife or something. I know my dad sent her pictures, but I wasn’t a big enough deal to bring up all the time or anything.”

Mel paused, frowning. “I mean, a lot of her friends sent pictures of their kids, she kept them all in photo albums. I don’t remember any of you, but then again, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Macy, you said?”

Macy nodded.

“Maggie!” Mel screamed, across the room. Huge numbers of heads turned, then, seeing it was Mel, turned away again. She shouted again.

Maggie was wandering around again, shaking hands and ignoring what everyone was thinking (and saying, to be honest), wondering when she could get a moment to talk to Uncle Lawrence again. She _did_ get a moment to talk to Uncle Clarence, but he didn’t know anything at all about magic or witches, and just told her three or four times to ask him if she needed anything and was she holding up alright and if she really wasn’t hungry he was going to get her some carrot sticks just to keep her occupied.

She did appreciate the carrot sticks, because fewer people tried to shake her hand while she was eating them, but they didn’t actually do much for the nervous energy.

Filling her plate up with dip again, she managed to bump into someone thinking _wouldn’t even be here if not for the free food_ before she could move away. Ready to be very annoyed at him, but not really to say anything because that wouldn’t exactly be fair what with the mind reading, she took a deep breath, and looked into his deep, soulful eyes, like what Brian had looked like before she realized they were desperately incompatible.

Then, taking in more than just his captivating gaze, she realized he was actually pretty hot. And also from her English class? Which was perfect, actually, that could be the setting of his rivalry with Wyatt, and they could vie for her love by being really good at poetry, which would work out well, but secretly have very passionate feelings they could only reveal by taking her hand and opening their minds to her.

Assuming this guy thought about more things than just free food, which would be just her luck if one point of her love triangle was going to be like that and not even care about her.

“Hey,” Maggie said.

“Hey,” the guy said, taking a bite of his sandwich, “oh, my bad, did you need the sandwiches?” He moved out of her way.

Maggie was torn between finding it gross that he was talking with his mouth full, and chivalrous that he wanted to clear her path to sandwiches, not that she actually wanted one, but she took one anyway, because he was being nice and that was a good opening.

Also, it evened things out if both meet cutes were at her mom’s memorial, because it was, like, tragic, but emotional? And anyway her mom would have laughed at her about it, so it was a kind of warm fuzzy anyway.

“I’m Maggie,” she said, as he started to turn away, too quickly.

“Maybe?” he said.

“Maggie,” she said, more slowly this time, “Margarita.”

“Oh,” he said, “hey, Maggie Margarita, I’m Parker.”

Then, before she could correct him, he left, and Maggie was wondering in frustration whether that was cute and quirky or just the _worst_ when she heard Mel calling for her. Loudly, in a way the whole room could hear, despite the fact that she was like ten feet away.

“What?” Maggie said, stomping up to Mel and Macy, sandwich still in hand.

“You aren’t going to believe this,” Mel said.

Maggie looked Macy up and down and said, “ten bucks she’s our secret half sister from a torrid love affair and Mom still has all kinds of love letters from the dude locked up in her desk or whatever. Anyway it makes sense there’d be three of us, there should be if we’re going to be witches and all.”

“What?” Mel said.

“Three is a number of power,” Macy said. “Like, three points on a triangle, right? Most stable shape in nature.”

“Okay,” Mel said, “I believe the sister thing now, because both of you are going to drive me insane. You think we have some sort of Power of Three?”

“Like nine?” Macy said.

“What?” Mel said.

Maggie huffed. “Okay, explain what’s going on, one of you.”

“You pretty much got it,” Macy said. “My dad’s here, too. But they stayed in contact, though. I just don’t think it was love letters or anything like that.”

“We’re not _witches_ ,” Mel said.

“Not to start anything, because I don’t want to come between sisters or anything,” Macy said, “but I am a witch. I mean, religiously. I don’t believe in magic, you know, not beyond like land magic and cooperative magic. I can’t shoot fireballs or anything.”

“Ah! But you believe people could!” Maggie said, triumphantly.

“I mean, I’m a scientist,” Macy said, “I can’t rule anything out. Especially not something that probably would be kept secret from the general public.”

“You can’t talk about witchcraft in public,” two voices hissed, and all three sisters turned around in surprise.

Macy’s dad and Mel and Maggie’s uncle were looking at each other in surprise. A silent conversation passed between them, and they beckoned the trio over to a quieter place, in which well-wishers were unlikely to stumble upon them.

“Let’s try take two,” Lawrence said. “Don’t _talk about magic in public_.”

“Right,” Macy said, “Statute of Secrecy, got it.”

“Why is everyone in my life so obsessed with Harry Potter?” Mel asked, throwing her hands up in the air and crying dramatically. Then, in a whisper, “magic isn’t even real.”

“Here, look,” Dexter said, and pulled a penny out of his pocket, floating it up and around the women and then back to his hand.

“Dad,” Macy said.

“Macy,” her dad said.

“Since when are you magical?” she asked.

“Since always?” he said, “where did you think you got it from?”

“I never thought about it, seeing as I only found out literally just now,” Macy said.

“No?” her dad said, “you’ve known about it for ages.”

“What?” Macy said, “I’ve _known_ about it? How do you figure?”

“You joined a coven in high school!” Dexter said.

“Lots of high schoolers do!” Macy said, “it’s a popular pastime!”

“You have an altar,” Dexter said, “you pray to it.”

“It’s a religion!” Macy said.

“You’ve seen me pray to mine!” Dexter said.

Macy covered her face. “I thought you were trying to support me, you know, like when you pretend to like musicals.”

“I like musicals fine,” Dexter said. “Anyway, what did you think Harry was about then?”

“What?” Macy said, “your weird friend?”

“Yeah, I said, this is Harry, your guardian angel, what did you think I meant?” Dexter asked her, tugging at his hair.

“I thought you meant he’d dealt with the nosy white lady that kept calling CPS,” Macy said, raising her voice. “I didn’t think you meant something actually supernatural!”

“Wait, Harry?” Maggie said, “not mom’s friend Harry.”

“Probably?” Dexter said, “Harry Greenwood?”

“That might be his name,” Maggie conceded.

“No,” Mel said, “no, this is ridiculous.”

Harry poked his head in. “Sorry, took a minute to get away. Someone called?” Then, looking around, “oh, good, you’re all together. Saves a bit of time.”

“Let me get this straight,” Mel said, ignoring Maggie’s snort, “you are some sort of guardian angel. You’ve been watching Macy, our secret sister, since she was a baby. Maggie, apparently, can read your sex thoughts –”

“I can read all your thoughts,” Maggie said, “it’s not my fault most people are thinking about sex all the time.”

“I wasn’t even – it, like, occurred to me!” Mel said, “I didn’t even realize it was on my mind until you mentioned it!”

“Whatever,” Maggie said.

“And Macy can do telekinesis,” Mel added.

“What? No I can’t,” Macy said.

“Yes you can?” Dexter said, “you’ve been doing that since you were little?”

“No,” Macy said, “I’m just good at remembering where things are, and I have a longer reach than people expect. I can’t move things with my mind.”

“I don’t even _have_ a power,” Mel said.

“You must do,” Harry told her, “if we’ve got a kind of emotive power here with Maggie, and Macy can move things, you’d have one of the others – stopping time, prophecy, flying maybe? Electricity powers – ”

“Yeah, that’s mine,” Lawrence said, making a little ball of lightning again.

“Flying?” Mel said, “I want that one.”

“Unfortunately, you can’t choose,” Harry said.

“The hell I can’t,” Mel told him, “if we’re witches, there’s probably a power swapping spell around somewhere, and I’m going to find it, and I’m going to use it.”

“That’s not how it works,” Harry said.

“Screw this,” Maggie said, “we don’t need a bunch of dudes telling us whether we can have cool powers. I’m asking Tia Tia.”

“Wait, Tia Tia is a witch, too?” Mel asked. “Is everyone a witch?”

“I’m feeling like that,” Macy said. “I can’t believe my dad was magic this whole time and never even told me. Is that how you were checking up on me so much?”

“Teleportation magic, yeah,” Dexter said. “I thought you knew, though, baby girl.”

“I’m going with my sisters, then,” Macy said. “Look, Magic decided this for me, out of my hands, sorry.”

“Uncle Clarence isn’t a witch,” Maggie was telling Mel, as Macy caught up with them, “I have to assume that means Arlo isn’t either, but you never know.”

“But _why_ can’t we tell people?” Mel asked. “I mean, it’s a more enlightened era, people can be open minded about things.”

Macy snorted.

“Oh, come on,” Mel said, “most people aren’t that bad.”

“I mean, no, once you surround yourself with only people who aren’t entirely horrendous to be around,” Macy said. “And anyway, you live on a college campus. You only hang out with social sciences faculty – and queer studies at that. Of course they’re lefter than most people.”

“I don’t think we’ve been sisters long enough for you to say it like that,” Mel said. “Let’s ask Tia Tia, anyway.”

“There’s three of you,” the woman said, when they showed up.

“Yeah. Apparently we have a sister mom never told us about,” Maggie said, “kind of like our kickass magical legacy? That we just. Never knew about?”

“Ah,” said Tia Tia, “you’ve learned about being the Charmed Ones.”

“We what?” Macy said.

Tia frowned. “You haven’t learned about being the Charmed Ones?”

“No,” Maggie said, “I don’t think that one was on the list yet.”

“We came to get me cool flying powers,” Mel said.

Tia laughed. “It doesn’t quite work that way – we can guide you and see if you can open yourself up to new powers, but you should already have the ones you have.”

“Okay,” Mel said, “and that means what?”

Tia shrugged. “I can’t tell you your own powers. You’ll figure them out in time, I think. Relax and it should be easier to become one with them.”

“Oh my god,” Maggie said.

“What?” Mel asked, suddenly worried.

“Is _Niko_ a witch?” Maggie asked. “Shit, is _Brian_ a witch?”

“Oh no,” Mel said, sarcasm dripping off her words, “if he’s a witch you have to keep dating him, forever.”

“Fuck off,” Maggie said. “I’m sure he’s not a witch.”

“I think if Niko were a witch she would’ve told me,” Mel said.

“Why, did you tell her?” Maggie asked.

“Okay, point,” Mel said. “Let’s ask?”

“You should probably be careful about that, girls,” Tia said, “sometimes magic doesn’t like being talked about. Old spells, hard to change, even as the world changes around them.”

“Do you talk about it?” Macy asked.

Tia smiled. “I’m a witch, quite openly, though of course people interpret that how they will. I’m a homeopath according to my office door, but my medicine actually works. Give people an excuse and you can be more open than you’d expect.”

“What if all homeopaths are actually secret witches?” Maggie said, “what if that’s why it never works when you try it on your own?”

“What? Maggie, no, that’s insane,” Mel said, “although, historically speaking, witches were the women who had secret knowledge of medicine that people didn’t believe they had and that they didn’t want to fall into the wrong hands, so I guess it’s possible, if unlikely.”

“But what about the Statute of Secrecy?” Macy asked. “Can we go back to that?”

“The…what?” Tia Tia asked, “like in Harry Potter?”

“Yeah?” Macy said, “isn’t that what it is?”

“Not precisely,” Tia said, “let’s see – no human mind decided on it, it happened far before that. And it isn’t a law exactly, it isn’t prison you’d go to. You’d simply – be rewritten. As if you had never made that choice. Or, if necessary, never existed at all.”

“Oh, hell, that’s creepy,” Maggie said.

“Yes, decidedly so,” Tia said, “but there are exceptions. You’re allowed to tell Innocents who are impacted by magic –”

“Oh, this is getting some weird white supremacist vibes,” Mel said.

“Not like that,” Tia said, “innocent of magic, lacking knowledge. And in any case, it’s a title, a designation of their relationship to you and your quest, less so an adjective.”

“Oh, like that’s our MacGuffin,” Maggie said.

Tia nodded pleasantly. “I’m going to assume you know what you’re talking about, yes.”

“Are we _incapable_ of telling people,” Macy said, “or do we have to just try not to and how we don’t get, like…erased.”

“I think there is a spell to bind your tongue, and if anyone would have it, your mother would,” Tia said. “It’s a drastic measure, though, and you would sacrifice even your ability to hint at it. Kind of precludes a therapist.”

“We’re going to need _therapists_?” Maggie said.

“I already need a therapist just from this conversation,” Mel said.

“I think that’s a good idea, if you think about it,” Macy said, “I mean, if we have to do magic, that implies there’s something we have to do magic _against_.”

“Demons,” Tia supplied.

“Yes, demons,” Macy agreed, “and if we have to fight, and presumably kill, demons, that could have a severe traumatic impact without sufficient support. Wait, _demons_?”

“Well,” Mel said, “I mean. It’s always demons, isn’t it?”

“Um, no?” Maggie said, “vampires, werewolves, aliens, straight up time travel sometimes, bad witches, the fae –”

“Creatures from mythology and legend,” Macy continued, “movie monsters, comic book villains, old gods, new gods, science experiments gone wrong –”

“Mothman,” Maggie said, “the government. Some other, supernatural, government.”

“Sometimes it’s just a metaphor,” Macy added, “for the human condition and our innermost fears and all.”

“Oh!” Maggie said, “soul mates or like magic weddings and stuff, but they’re bad and you have to get rid of them.”

“I haven’t dealt with nearly half those things,” Tia said.

“Right,” Mel said. “Just so we know, which half _have_ you dealt with?”

“Vampires, yes, those are complicated,” Tia said, “personally, no werewolves, but I have heard stories. Bad witches, of course – warlocks – occasionally something out of a storybook. You do have to hide from the government to some extent, but less than you’d think. People don’t want to believe. _Supernatural_ government, well, death and taxes, and remind me to tell you girls about reincarnation and ghosts. Anyway I suppose we all deal with the human condition.”

“Not the fae?” Macy asked.

“Not as far as I know,” Tia said. “There are some woodland creatures, nymphs and such, and some underfolk, but they’re just regular folk, not Folk, I don’t think.”

“No aliens?” Maggie asked, “no ill-considered tempting of fate decrying man’s hubris?”

“Never peer reviewed,” Macy added.

“I suppose there could be,” Tia added, “I haven’t encountered any.”

“No time travel?” Mel said, unaccountably disappointed.

“No, sweetheart,” Tia said. “There’s definitely no time travel. That we would’ve heard about, I’d think. There’s only so much the elders and their whitelighters keep from us.”

“Oh, good!” Harry said, “I was beginning to think I lost you. The Charmed Ones –”

“Do you mind?” Mel snapped, “we’re talking.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, “go on about how shitty and horrible whitelighters are, and how they have no sense of boundaries or fashion.”

Tia chuckled. “So you did figure out what whitelighters were.”

“Now, why have I been doing magic since I was a baby,” Macy said, “but these two haven’t? Or have they, and they didn’t know until now either.”

“Oh, that’s interesting, actually,” Harry said, “their powers were b–”

“I imagine your parents had more of a handle on magical babies,” Tia told Macy, “some feel they can handle it, some can’t. Easier if it’s a similar power, of course.”

“Wait, so what happened to ours?” Maggie asked, “or do they just go away if, like, did Mom just not want them, so they were gone?”

“No,” Harry said, “they were b–”

“Oh, no, it would’ve been a spell,” Tia said, “keeps babies from hurting themselves, especially if their parents don’t have magic, or not the right kind to cancel out what the babies are doing. Usually the parents will have it removed at some point after puberty, when the witch has a little more control, although I suppose your mother may have been waiting until you finished school to tell you.”

“Even though we’re the _Charmed Ones_?” Mel asked, tossing her arms up, “wouldn’t we need more of a heads up on having a sister, and also, maybe, _practice_?”

“That’s complicated,” Tia said, “the most expansive tasks allow the most expansive powers, which in turn are the hardest for children to control, and the hardest for parents to childproof the house for. Your particular powers – the Power of Three – don’t so much come from practice as harmony, anyway.”

“What, like the ponies?” Macy asked.

“Oh!” said Maggie, “I’m Rainbow Dash.”

“ _I’m_ Dashie,” Mel said, “You can be Rarity.”

“O…kay,” Macy said.

“You’re a scientist,” Mel said, “you want to be Twilight Sparkle?”

“Um,” Macy said.

“Actually,” Maggie said, thoughtfully, “I think we’re all Zecora, right? I mean, we have to go make a bunch of potions, and hide in the woods.”

“No, Twily’s learning lots more different kinds of magic,” Mel said, “we don’t want to limit ourselves, right?”

“There’s only one of her, though,” Maggie said.

“I mean,” Mel told her, “there’s only one of both of them.”

“Ugh,” Macy said, “this doesn’t mean we’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders does it?”

“Well,” said Mel, considering, “we do still have to learn how all of this works, and once we do, help everyone else.”

“Oh no,” Macy said.

“Ladies,” Harry said.

“Shut _up_ Harry!” Maggie said.

Mel narrowed her eyes at him. “Who decided some white dude was supposed to be in charge of teaching us magic?”

“Oh for the love of,” Harry said, “I’m _not_ supposed to be in charge, you’re supposed to already have been taught so you can answer your calling right away, but that’s obviously not what happened.”

“Guys?” Macy said, and several heads turned her way, “what’s that?”

“ _That_ ,” said Harry, “is what I was trying to tell you about, which is – oh, wait, hold on that’s not the same thing at all, that’s a wraith. Oooh, right, because your powers were bound.”

“How do we stop it?” Maggie asked.

“Oh, now you want my help,” Harry said.

“Shut the fuck up and tell us if you know,” Mel said.

While Harry was trying to process that last statement, Tia cut in with, “hold hands, kids, you’ve got to join your magic. Macy in the middle, please.”

Macy held a hand out to either side, grasping Mel and Maggie’s, and all three struggled against an overwhelming force of magic. “I don’t think it’s working.”

“What’s it doing?” Maggie shouted.

“It’s,” Harry shouted back, “trying to steal your powers. It can do that the first day or two after they’re unbound, unless you seal the pact. You know, as Charmed Ones.”

“Might have warned us!” Mel said, “instead of trying to do a bunch of dramatic setup that was apparently useless.”

“It’s not useless!” Harry said. “There really are signs of the impending apocalypse, and I thought this was one of them! But it’s a different thing! People are wrong sometimes!”

“Remember what your mother told you, girls,” Tia said.

“I don’t think I’m going to help much with that,” Macy said, voice straining.

“You’re the oldest, and the only one whose powers were never bound,” Tia said, “you lend each other strength, and right now you’re the only one who can give your sisters protection. Don’t underestimate that. You’re better together.”

After a pause, Tia said, “No, like, say it. You’re better together.”

“We’re better together,” Macy dutifully repeated.

“Our differences are our strengths,” Mel said, with a glance back at Tia, who nodded encouragingly at all of them.

“And nothing is stronger than our sisterhood!” Maggie screamed at the wraith.

The room was suffused with a deep bronze glow, growing thicker where their hands met, but the wraith still glided towards them.

“Nothing is stronger than our sisterhood,” Maggie shouted again, Mel joining her.

The glow grew darker.

“Nothing is stronger than our sisterhood,” Macy shouted with them, voices echoing in unison as they blended into a single invocation.

The wraith scrabbled at the light, then burst into wisps of smoke.

“Is that it?” Maggie asked, “did we vanquish it?”

“You can’t really vanquish them,” Tia said, “they’re not properly demons, more like a…weather phenomenon I guess. But it won’t come back.”

“Right, about this Harbinger,” Harry said.

“Not _now_ , Harry,” Mel huffed, “we just found out we have a sister. We have to get to know her before you start in on all of that.”

“Sister,” Macy said, laughing, “okay.”

“Yeah,” Maggie said, taking Mel’s hand in her free one to complete the circle, “I like that. Sisters.”


	2. 99 Problems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are hellhounds. The sisters try to figure out more of what magic is all about.

“Who wanted more pancakes?” Harry asked into the awkward silence, overly cheerful and waving a spatula to emphasize.

Nobody responded.

“I’ll have one more,” Macy said gamely.

“Yeah, I’ll have some,” Maggie agreed, “I’m pretty full, though.”

“I’m good on pancakes, but if you have any more of the blackberries, I’d have some,” Uncle Lawrence said.

Tia Tia quickly seconded that, adding, “did we finish the coffee yet?”

“No, I just put on a fresh pot,” Harry said, and, grinning brightly, returned to refill six waiting cups held up in unison.

There was another awkward silence, after which Mel said, “what do you _mean_ we’re going to be a constant target?”

“They steal powers?” Lawrence said, with a shrug. “That’s demons for you.”

“They use them as a kind of currency,” Tia elaborated, “and not just witch powers either, demonic powers, powers from all sorts of magical creatures, even animals sometimes.”

“There’s _wild animals_ we have to watch out for?” Mel complained, at the same time Maggie said, “aw, what kind of animals?”

“Oh, there are all sorts of magical animals,” Macy’s dad offered, “most of them aren’t dangerous at all, leave them alone and they’ll leave you alone, basic wilderness safety.”

“Some of them are beneficial even,” Lawrence added, “unicorns? Very gentle, help with ritual and potion materials. Of course, there are pests, you got to call an exterminator for those.”

“Unicorns?” Maggie said, making the same face she made at videos where a kitten yawned in a particularly dramatic way. “Are those…common?”

“You’re not very likely to find one in this plane of existence,” Tia said, voice tinged with regret, “if you can manage to get a pass, the elders will show you some.”

“Those are _incredibly_ hard to come by,” Harry agreed. “And too bad.”

“Uh-huh,” Macy said, “what’s an elder?”

“It’s like, old people, Macy,” Maggie said, with a wry grin.

Macy rolled her eyes.

“The _elders_ ,” Harry said, “are our bosses. Well, mine directly, yours less so.”

“Let me guess,” Mel said, “they tell you to tell us what to do.”

“Less than you’d think,” Harry said, “most of the time, if I didn’t know better, I’d think they’d forgotten we’re down here, really. And they might send…something else.”

“Please say owls,” Maggie said.

“I wish,” Lawrence said, “in my experience, it’s more like…weird orbs, or like ominous clouds that play an image on repeat. And occasionally a straight up letter.”

“Huh,” Tia said, “I don’t think they’ve ever contacted me through anything other than my whitelighter or my spirit board. I feel a little left out.”

“That’s because we’re Warren witches,” Lawrence said, with an eyeroll.

Tia laughed. “They do love their Promised bloodlines, don’t they?”

“No prophecies in yours?” Dexter asked.

Tia grinned. “Prophecies, yes, destiny not so much. Although there was one a few generations back that said I was going to help the Charmed Ones. Ambiguously worded – Mama always assumed it meant my older sister, she’s the one always getting into trouble. She runs a youth shelter for troubled witches these days, runs headfirst into these kind of things.”

Dexter laughed. “They always ignored me, too.”

“Here’s hoping they ignore us,” Mel muttered.

“No chance of that, I’m afraid,” Harry said, “they did that the last time and it turned out rather poorly, but we don’t need to talk about that.”

“Uh,” said Mel, “I think we do?”

“There were other Charmed Ones?” Macy said, “before us?”

“What went wrong?” Maggie asked, “was it cool? How cool was it?”

“Who were they?” Mel asked, “what were their powers?”

“Oh, for the love of,” Harry said, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There were. This first generation powerful enough to form a Power of Three was one prior to yours. Their names were Prue, Piper, and Phoebe, and they had telekinesis, molecule manipulation, and prophecy. Then, the Charmed Ones Reconstituted were Piper, Phoebe, and Paige, who also had telekinesis of a kind, though it worked differently, and we suspect the rift caused by disrupting and reconstituting the Charmed Ones may have bifurcated the power, meaning there could be two sets of Charmed Ones in your generation, the other trio having presumably the same biological parents for all three sisters, though it’s too soon to tell. What went wrong is far too complicated and numerous to narrate in both cases, although I will track down a summary of their exploits if you’re that curious.”

“Um, yeah,” Macy said.

“Fuck yeah,” Maggie agreed.

“I don’t exactly understand how you expect us to do our jobs, sorry, our goddamned _destiny_ if you don’t give us all the information,” Mel said, “what’s molecule manipulation?”

“It’s not a terribly uncommon power,” Tia said, “for most people, it allows them to turn small amounts of one substance into another, alchemy, you know. If people learn to target it well, you can turn a demon’s heart into steel or something equally gruesome. A lot of people can’t work an object that big. Usually they end up repairing magical artifacts, or treating certain types of illness and injury. I assume it was more powerful in your predecessor.”

“Warren witches use it to stop time,” Lawrence said, simply.

“They _what_ ,” Tia remarked.

Lawrence made jazz hands. “And then time stops. Or else it explodes.”

“Time _explodes_?” Mel said.

Lawrence snorted into his hand. “No. It, uh. Either you halt the molecular motion, put it in a sort of suspended animation, or you, uh…speed it up. Turn a solid into a gas as it were.”

“And if the solid is a demon,” Macy said, frowning, “it’s no longer a demon after.”

“That one’s pretty hard to master,” Lawrence said. “Our cousin had it, nearly blew himself up a bunch of times, never could get the hang of it.”

“Melinda Warren was extremely overpowered,” Dexter added. “I think there’s nearly a hundred unique powers she had, if you include the minor ones.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” Maggie said, “I hope we don’t have to fight _her_.”

“She’s Good!” Harry said, scandalized, “Melinda Warren was a Good Witch, of course you would never have to fight her.”

“I don’t know,” Macy said, “zombies don’t tend to retain the same morality or set of goals, but they do tend to retain any special powers.”

“Oh, god, I hope you don’t have to fight zombies,” Lawrence muttered.

“Wait, zombies are _real_?” Macy asked, “I was joking.”

“I wouldn’t say they were _zombies_ necessarily,” Dexter said, scratching his chin, “but there are types of walking dead. And, of course, many things that can adopt some of the essence of the dead – fortunately that’s unlikely to be _all_ her powers, even if they could get any.”

“She was burned at the stake,” Tia stage whispered, “so there’s not enough left.”

“Okay, I feel like you all know a story I don’t,” Mel said.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed, “is there some history we’re missing?”

“This _is_ a very important historical tale for witches in the Americas,” Harry said, “though I think there should be some references in your Book of Shadows, or any of the numerous other books in your mother’s collection.”

“Marisol had a Book of Shadows?” Macy said, “what am I saying, of course she did – why haven’t we pulled it out to look at yet?”

“A what?” Mel said.

“Wait, like a,” Maggie mimed opening a book, “like a Grimoire?”

“You didn’t give them the Book of Shadows?” Lawrence asked, accusingly.

“Me?” Harry said, “shouldn’t it rightfully be your responsibility?”

“Oh, right, that’s why it was _me_ who broke the binding,” Lawrence said, “I have my _own_ copy on the assumption I might need it when we were on opposite sides of the country. I don’t know if that copy even remembers me anymore.”

“ _Someone_ give it to us,” Mel said.

“I’ll get it while these two argue,” Tia said, standing up.

“No!” Harry and Lawrence said in unison, breaking off their argument.

“They’re, uh, a little overprotective,” Lawrence said. “Warren family Books of Shadows. They…bite? Or like…they won’t let people near them who aren’t family.”

“Oh _that’s_ what you were doing in the middle of the night,” Tia said, to Harry.

“Well, this is interesting,” Maggie said.

“You had to reactivate the book?” Lawrence said, also to Harry.

“I did,” Harry said, “I’d hoped I wouldn’t have to.”

“It’s extremely unlikely it still considers me family, then,” Lawrence said.

Dexter looked back and forth between them. “And here I thought it was perfectly reasonable to just keep them in a safe place. Regular books. That don’t bite.”

“Not good enough for Melinda BAMF Warren, sounds like,” Maggie said, “I like her. Tell us more about her.”

“Maybe we should, like,” Mel made a vague gesture. “Throw it at demons. Just. Throw it at them. Let Warren’s old ass overpowered protection spells just…poof.”

“I like that,” Macy said, “let’s beat the bad guys up with the book.”

“Oh my god,” Maggie said, “throw the book at them.”

“She looks so sad,” Maggie said, touching the portrait of Melinda Warren as they looked through their mom’s books.

“I mean, they were running around burning witches,” Mel said, “not to mention, the _good_ life at the time was being some dude’s wife and never arguing with him. Like. Yeah, I’d be sad too if I had to live like that.”

“Well, of course _you’d_ be sad,” Maggie said with a snort.

“I thought she’d look,” Macy said, moving to sit next to the other two, on Maggie’s bed, “I don’t know, more…sorcerer…y.”

“I know what you mean,” Mel said. “She just looks like any other illustration out of a history book, doesn’t she? Not one of history’s most powerful witches.”

“I guess other historical figures never looked like anything either,” Macy said. “I mean, Marie Curie? She’s just, you know. Someone.”

“Yeah,” Mel said. “They’re just regular people. Everyone’s always just been people.”

“Screw that,” Maggie said, “if we have to put our portraits in this book, I’m going full on cosplay. Get a giant crown or something.”

“Oh, yes!” Mel said, “let’s do theme costumes!”

“This is such a good idea,” Macy said, “okay, let’s brainstorm. Wait. We were doing something, weren’t we?”

“I mean, just researching,” Maggie said.

“Oh, right, research,” Mel said. “What do you think is the _limit_ on magic? I mean, there must be, or people would’ve taken over the world, for better or for worse, wouldn’t they?”

“Well, we know about the don’t-tell-people-except-specific-people-sometimes-for-some-reason rule,” Macy said, “I wish someone would give us a primer about this.”

“Oh, damn,” Maggie said.

“What?” the other two asked.

“I just realized why mom made us learn so much herb lore,” Maggie said.

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” Mel said.

“Huh,” Macy said, “me too. I mean, she sent me books for special occasions.”

“We should try a spell,” Maggie said.

Macy gently opened the Vera (Vera-Vaughn?) Book of Shadows, and flipped a few pages. “All together? Or one at a time?”

“Both?” Mel said, “I mean, one, then the other. But probably individual first, that makes more sense, right?”

“Are they different?” Maggie asked, “which is easier?”

“I don’t think we’ll know until we try,” Macy said. “Oh, here’s a good one. To Conjure a Butterfly. That sounds pretty.”

Mel leaned over her shoulder, reading off the page, “Butterfly beautiful, carefree and bright, appear in our presence, a witch’s delight.”

A butterfly appeared in Mel’s cupped hand, flew a loop around the room, then landed in her hand again, disappearing in a shower of sparks.

“Is it supposed to do that?” Maggie asked.

Checking the notes on the back of the page, Macy said, “yes, I think so. It says it’s a training spell. The Book just fell open to them. Is that weird?”

“I mean, yes, but what isn’t lately,” Mel said. “Maybe it’s helping.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Maggie said, “our Grimoire wants to help us. Thank you, Grimoire, that’s very kind of you.” She gave the Book a light pat.

“Okay, I like this one, too,” Macy said, “you want to try it, or should I? Maggie?”

Maggie was staring at the spell, studying it. “It sounds like…you just need to, like, rhyme? I wonder if we can make our own spells, or how hard is it?”

“I mean, Uncle Lawrence said mom made spells sometimes,” Mel said, “and the other ones had to have been invented by someone. So I’m sure it can be done.”

“I’m going to levitate this pillow, if no one minds,” Macy said.

“No, go ahead,” Maggie told her.

Macy looked at the page again, moved the throw pillow onto the floor, and read off, “Light as a feather, stiff as a board, object rise at my word.”

“Maybe it’s because it’s not stiff,” Mel said, when the pillow did nothing.

“Is there another half of the poem?” Maggie said, “that seemed short.”

“No,” Macy said, checking the surrounding pages. “Oh, wait, maybe – Light as a feather, stiff as a board, _pillow_ rise at my word.”

The pillow levitated, slightly, but it stayed there even after they’d been staring at it long enough to grow bored.

“How do you make it stop?” Maggie asked.

Macy flipped the page again, but nothing was written. “I hope we don’t have to, like, say it backwards. I don’t think I can do that.”

“Stop floating!” Mel said, throwing her hands forward.

The pillow kept floating.

“Try concentrating,” Maggie said, “maybe you have to want it to go back down.”

Macy closed her eyes, concentrated, and opened them again, but the pillow was still floating. “I wonder how I end the spell?”

The pillow dropped to the ground.

“Well, _that_ was anticlimactic,” Mel said.

Maggie took the book. “Alright, I’m doing one – hey, why doesn’t this one rhyme?”

“The last one barely rhymed,” Macy said.

“No, but,” Maggie said, “this is just…words, I guess.”

Mel looked over. “I mean, what are spells _for_? _Why_ do they work?”

“Definitely something we have to figure out before we make some up,” Macy agreed.

“I’m going for it,” Maggie said, “The path of the bird is to fly, the path of the bread is to bake, the path of the book is to be read.”

A book zipped over from the other room, landing in Maggie’s lap. She picked it up to examine it. “What sort of book is it supposed to give you?”

Mel took the Book of Shadows from her. “It just says something important in the moment. It doesn’t say important to what.”

“Huh,” Maggie said, “I wonder what I need with Sweet Valley High?”

“Okay,” Mel said, giving Maggie a quick hug and hurrying out the door. “I’m off.”

“Have fun in class!” Maggie called after her.

“Oh, this is cute,” Macy said, picking up a picture of a young Mel playing with baby Maggie, showing her some sort of blocky train set.

“Oh, man, that,” Maggie said, “that train was my favorite toy for, like, years – it was supposed to be to help my dexterity I think? But without choking hazards. Like, one of those early childhood education baby genius things. I don’t know, I liked the sound.”

“Like a sort of wood clacking against itself sound?” Macy said.

“Yup,” Maggie said. “Still my favorite for sensory overload and all, just take a mallet to a block of wood, zone out.”

Macy smiled. “I used to always – I had toy blocks, wooden blocks? I would smack them together to make sounds. Dad would sing to it, sometimes.”

Maggie laughed. “Mom hated the noise. She had to get, like, an extra thick carpet so she couldn’t hear it through the ceiling.”

“Had to pick a different instrument?” Macy joked.

“You know, clarinet?” Maggie said. “I never got particularly good at it. I enjoy singing a lot more. I guess mom didn’t feel like it was the same kind of enrichment.”

“Yeah, I don’t get that,” Macy said, “singing, it’s got the same sheet music and all, it engages a different part of your brain. Everyone’s like, oh no, it’s different.”

“You sing?” Maggie asked.

Macy let out an awkward chuckle. “So, when I was little, I was totally convinced I was going to be on Broadway – like, I sing pretty well, but I can’t act? I mean not just stage fright and forgetting my lines and all, I literally…like I can’t remember how to person anymore.”

“Oh, no, that’s awful!” Maggie said, “I throw up every time I have to memorize something and say it in front of people, so I get it.”

“Actually throw up?” Macy said.

Maggie shrugged. “You know when you puke in your mouth a little?”

“Gross,” Macy said.

Maggie covered her mouth and snorted. “You asked.”

“This, this is what I get,” Macy said, “you tell someone they were a cute baby one time and it’s sister overshare day.”

“We have more pictures,” Maggie said, waving a hand over to some other photo albums. “There are a couple more in the attic, but this is my favorite, this is all the fairs and stuff. Lots and lots of goats.”

“Oh, I love petting zoos,” Macy said, “did your mom let you feed them?”

“Oh, yeah, we fed everything. A kangaroo one time,” Maggie said.

Macy nodded. “Dad let me feed the sheep, but he had a problem with the horses.”

“Your dad’s afraid of horses?” Maggie said.

Macy shrugged. “Some animals he just…he’s nervous around them? Not afraid necessarily, but he doesn’t like to be too near dogs or horses.”

“Oh, speaking of dogs,” Tia called, from the living room, “I saw a hellhound today. You girls looking for pictures? I’ve got some lovely ones of your mother.”

“A hellhound?” Macy called back, “is that normal?”

“No, dear,” Tia said, “but it’s to be expected, I think. They’re usually a precursor to someone trying to steal your powers. Or else they’re feral, but that’s a much bigger problem.”

“Should,” Maggie called, “should someone do something about that?”

“I would think so,” Tia said. “Not sure if anyone is, yet.”

“Harry,” Maggie called.

He appeared in a shower of glitter, white sparks drifting off into the air and fading. He clapped his hands together. “You called?”

“You, uh,” Maggie said, “I thought you were upstairs?”

“I was, yes,” Harry said, “and then you called and I came as quickly as possible.”

“Okay then,” Maggie said. “So, about these hellhounds –”

“ _Hellhounds_ ,” Harry said, “was that even one of the omens we were supposed to expect? My word _hellhounds_ somebody better get on that.”

“Right,” Macy said. “We were asking if anyone was.”

“Not to my knowledge,” Harry said, “but then I’ve only just heard about this. Shall I check on it?”

“Probably best,” Macy agreed, watching Harry disappear again in another series of sparkles, wondering whether it was a trick you could learn.

“Is he going to be a while, do you think?” Maggie asked.

“No idea,” Macy said. “I mean, it should be fast to check if, like, if the case is assigned or what have you, shouldn’t it?”

“Well, I’m going after the hellhound if he isn’t back by the time I look up the spell,” Maggie said, and marched determinedly toward the Book.

“How do you look up hellhounds?” Macy said, and the book obligingly found the page for her.

“Oh, no,” Maggie said, “this says they’re cursed dogs? And it doesn’t even say how to save them, that’s ridiculous!”

“Okay, you go grab one,” Macy said, “I’ll look up how to cure them, it’s probably just in the wrong section of the book. I mean I guess there’s no point making an index if the book magically looks things up for you, right?”

“On it,” Maggie said, grabbing her coat and jumping into her hiking boots. “Send Harry after me if I’m gone more than an hour.”

“Will do,” Macy said, flipping through the book. As she listened to the door shut, she huffed at the book. “Hurry up, we need to do our part. How do we uncurse someone?”

The book obligingly flipped to a section on how to cure werewolves, and Macy looked it over, thinking it was close, but not exactly what she was looking for. She snapped a photo of the page anyway, and another when she found a potion for clearing demonic influences from the mind, although she wasn’t sure exactly what that meant. There were a handful more that seemed close, but nothing like what she was looking for, and she started comparing them, making a chart of the similarities between them. She lost her train of thought when she heard the door opening, and went to check if Maggie was back already.

Lawrence brought three bags of groceries into the kitchen, and started unpacking them, hurrying to stick the frozens in the freezer. “Hey, Macy, where’s Maggie?”

“Oh, she went off to fight a hellhound,” Macy said, “what’s with all the kiwi?”

“A _hellhound_?” Lawrence said, dropping a bag of frozen peas, and promptly bolting out the door, an echoing, “what the fuck,” sounding behind him.

“Okay, then,” Macy said, and took over putting things in the fridge before they spoiled.

“Maggie, wait!” a voice called out, and Maggie turned around.

“Uncle Lawrence?” Maggie said, “what are you doing out here?”

“You went to fight a hellhound?” he gasped, sounding halfway between angry and terrified, “on your own, with no backup? Without even telling anyone where you were?”

“Hey,” Maggie said, “I told Macy, and Macy was going to tell Harry.”

“First off, Harry’s no help,” Lawrence said.

“I hear that,” Maggie agreed.

Lawrence’s mouth twitched. “I mean. Because he’s a pacifist. He can’t help you fight a hellhound, the most he can do is heal you and bamf you away.”

“That sounds pretty useful, though,” Maggie said.

“If he gets there in time!” Lawrence raked both hands through his hair. “You told Macy, who, like you, has no concept of how dangerous these are, and you didn’t even ask for help from me, or Tia, or Dexter, let alone wait until all three of you were together.”

“It’s not a big deal, Uncle Lawrence,” Maggie said, “I mean, I know how to fight them, it was in the book, there are like four spells to subdue them. I don’t know why you’re so worried.”

“These are what killed your mother!” he snapped.

“Wait, what?” Maggie said. “You’ve known what killed mom _this whole time_ and you never said anything?”

“Not this time!” he shook his head. “Last time. Before she became an elder. When Macy was two. She fought a hellhound and _died_ Maggie, she _died_.”

“Okay, so many questions,” Maggie said. “First of all, mom was an _elder_? And also why didn’t you tell us, and what do you mean about Macy being two, wasn’t she gone already. And what do you mean _last time she died_? Do you resurrect if hellhounds kill you? Do you get reincarnated? How could she be an elder if she was dead? Are all elders dead?”

“Your mom was an elder, I thought you knew, I mean what else was the title of the book about otherwise, Macy didn’t leave until that other elder forced her to leave, she died and became an elder, you have to die to become an elder unless you’re a whitelighter already, all elders and whitelighters are dead reincarnated spirits,” he said, “I feel like I missed one, which one did I miss?”

“Nothing to do with hellhounds?” Maggie said.

“I mean, other than she also thought it was a good idea to fight one of the most notoriously dangerous cursed creatures out there without backup, and it got her killed, no, nothing to do with hellhounds,” he said.

“Okay, that doesn’t make any sense,” Maggie said. “You’re telling me there’s a whole system in which people _die_ and _get reborn_ running the oh my god Harry’s undead.”

“A little,” Lawrence agreed.

“Harry’s _undead_ and he never mentioned? All the Bosses Of Magic are _undead_ and nobody thought to say anything about it? We really could fight zombie Melinda Warren?” Maggie said. “How the fuck did mom have us if she was a zombie? The undead can get pregnant? Am I part undead? Wait, do I have cool undead powers?”

Lawrence just stared.

Maggie stared back.

“Melinda Warren’s just regular dead-dead, but you can talk to her ghost,” he said.

“We can talk to _ghosts_?” Maggie said. “Does that not seem like it might be useful, oh, say, in finding mom’s killer? Like maybe we might learn something when _nobody knows anything and it was clearly suspicious_?”

“We know she was attacked with some kind of electrical power,” Lawrence said.

“Oh, and that’s not relevant!” Maggie said, “let’s just not tell her daughters anything about how we know she was killed that was definitely left out of the police report because cops don’t know about magic! Let’s just leave them wondering if maybe it was an accident after all no matter how suspicious, even though you know it’s definitely a murder!”

Lawrence ducked when Maggie threw a pinecone at him.

“Wait,” Maggie said, taking a step back. “ _You_ have electricity powers.”

“What, you think I killed my own sister?” he said, “what the hell, Maggie?”

“I don’t know!” Maggie said. “I don’t know anything about any of this! I don’t know how to be a witch! Mom was supposed to teach us, but she didn’t for some reason, and now we have to learn all on our own with no help from her at all! And I don’t know how to be a Charmed One, I don’t even know what we’re supposed to do, and I can’t even find and catch a stupid hellhound. It was supposed to be easy! The Book showed us how just like that! And apparently I can’t even save some random dog, so how am I supposed to save the world?”

Lawrence caught Maggie as she collapsed against his chest, sobbing, and tried humming a lullaby at her, stopping once he heard how offkey he was in the hollow vibration through the trees. That wasn’t creepy at all.

“Uncle Lawrence?” Maggie said.

“Yeah, Magpie?” he said.

“I want to go home now,” she told him, and slumped against his shoulder, taking his arm as they walked slowly out of the woods.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We’ll come back out with you, all of us together, find the dog.”

“What did you mean about a book?” Maggie said.

“Your mom’s book?” Lawrence said. “The one she left for you.”

“Not the Book of Shadows?” Maggie asked.

Lawrence shook his head. “It was like…prophecies. For you three.”

“Prophecies,” Maggie said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “Marisol had prophecies, she wrote down the ones you would need to be the Charmed Ones. You didn’t know about this?”

“You,” Maggie said, “are going to have to write down an _entire_ list of the things you think we know already.”

“Good news!” Harry said, “no one else is hunting the hellhounds, so you’re free to go after them at will!”

“Fuck you,” Lawrence said, and Maggie held him back from the confrontation. “Don’t say it like ‘just find them and that’s it!’”

“Them?” Macy said, Book still in hand, “how many are there?”

“Usually a few,” Tia said, “I’ve never heard of a lone hellhound.”

“I, um,” Harry said, “reports were incomplete?”

Dexter, looking extremely rumpled and slightly on fire, stepped in to say, “usually at least half a dozen, generally no more than a dozen, although it depends on how many Huntsmen there are. The real problem is if there aren’t any. Though it’s not good either way.”

“Feral hellhounds I _have_ dealt with,” Tia said, “once. And it took a lot more of us than we have now, so unless you know another half a dozen witches you can call on short notice?”

“Uh,” Macy said, “let’s fucking hope _not_ then.”

Maggie rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, sighing. “Is this another thing we’re supposed to know?”

“Which, sweetie?” Lawrence asked.

“Huntsmen. What are they.”

Dexter cleared his throat and said, “a Huntsman Demon is…essentially they’re hellhound wranglers. They’re mercenaries; they’re usually working for someone else, but who knows who or why. On their own they’re usually just looking to stir things up, scare people.”

“Scare people like ‘ooh spoopy halloween’ scare people,” Maggie said, “or scare people like ‘well he looked pretty scared while he caught on fire and _died_ ’ scare people.”

Tia laughed. “That sounds right.”

Macy flipped through the book, made a frustrated huff, and called out, “Huntsman Demon,” making a satisfied smirk when the pages flipped themselves.

“Have you figured out how to use it?” Maggie said, “finally! How’s it work?”

“Okay, here, it says they show up between…1 and 13 of them at a time. Uh, alright, any way to narrow that down?” Macy handed the Book to Maggie. “It’s like voice recognition, I think, it seems to do pretty well as long as you’re forceful about what you want.”

Maggie nodded. “Book. Find: demon locator spell.”

“Generally they’re in pairs,” Dexter said. “Yes, they sometimes work alone, but they prefer groups. More than a few, and…you know…infighting. So thirteen is rare. But even one is…you should be careful. All of you. Be careful. But I doubt there’s more than a few.”

“I would _hope so_ ,” Tia said, “imagine how many hellhounds _thirteen_ of them would bring. I _hope_ there’s only one of them.”

“Okay, this looks good,” Maggie said. “If we can catch one of the puppies, it will lead us back to the Huntsman. Find: puppy locator spell.”

“Ooh,” Macy said, looking over her shoulder, “magical animal tracking. We should go find salamanders or something.”

“Right?” Maggie said, “magic is so cool. You think this is powerful enough?”

“Try it and see,” Macy said.

“Oh!” Maggie said. “We should look at mom’s prophecy book, first.”

“Whose what?” Macy said, staring.

Lawrence pulled a book off the shelf and handed it over. _The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Marisol Vera, Elder_ it said on the cover.

“Oh, what the hell mom,” Maggie said, “that’s not funny _at all_.”

Macy, meanwhile, was laughing her head off. “Okay, let me see it.”

Maggie watched her flip through it for a few seconds, then asked, “what’s it say?”

Macy frowned at her slightly. “It says break up with Brian. Who’s Brian?”

“Oh, it does not say that,” Maggie said, grabbing at the book. There, in plain black ink, read, _and Maggie, honey, break up with Brian already_. The more important part was probably the hellhounds above, but of course they already knew about those.

“Hellhounds I get,” Mel said, flipping through the book absentmindedly, then returning to the first page, “hellhounds, huntsmen, who are these random names? Demons?”

Macy looked over Mel’s shoulder. “I wondered about that too. But why tell us what kind the huntsmen are, but not the other ones?”

The pages were organized like this: a series of names at the top, underlined to create a section break; any pertinent details of the premonition, some of which were very straightforward (noon, at the house, hidden under the tall rock, ice powers) and some of which were vague and ominous (purple, dread, signs in the air, least favorite); and a series of references, both in the Book of Shadows and in the rest of Marisol’s library, with notes on how they might be useful, or additional tips and tricks.

And, sometimes, personal messages.

“More _importantly_ ,” Maggie said, “you agree it’s a terrible title, right?”

“I don’t know,” Mel said, “I think it’s cute.”

“ _Good Omens_ was mom’s favorite book,” Maggie said to Macy, “and it’s Mel’s too, because she’s a suckup.”

“Maggie just hates it because she has no sense of humor,” Mel retorted.

“I didn’t hate it!” Maggie said, “I just don’t know why it’s such a big deal!”

“It’s hilarious, that’s why,” Macy said, “and the title’s hilarious. If I had the gift of prophecy I would do the same thing.”

“Ugh,” Maggie said.

“Well,” Uncle Lawrence told them, “Maggie’s the one most likely to get those if anyone does, so you can name yours what you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll name mine, _Sorry your uncle didn’t tell you about this even though it was super important_ ,” Maggie said.

Macy blinked. “Do we, uh, have a brother I’m not aware of?”

“What?” Maggie said, “no, I’m just trying to subtly hint to Uncle Lawrence that HE SUCKS ACTUALLY and should have told us about this, and probably like a million other things that he _hasn’t_ which is why you don’t leave all your important messages with the guy with _memory problems_. Like, no one texts me to tell only me, you know?”

“Yeah, we have a system,” Mel said. “And the reminder bulletin board, of course, not that Maggie ever remembers to check that either.”

“Lucky you, you’re neurotypical and can pay attention to things you see every day,” Maggie said, “anyway don’t text just Mel either because she doesn’t check her phone.”

“I check my phone twice a day,” Mel said. “I answer if it rings.”

Macy nodded. “Right. I’m going to text Harry if I need anything. Since I think his whole job is to help us organize being witches? I’m not really sure what a whitelighter is.”

Harry sparkled back into existence. “You called?”

“Harry,” Mel said, “just the man I was hoping to see. What do these names mean?”

Harry peered at them, reading them over. “Well, we knew about the huntsmen and the hellhounds already. What are the others?”

“Okay, so, you’re no help either,” Mel said, “typical.”

“We’ve decided to copy you on all magic related texting,” Macy said, “so that way if any of us miss or forget anything you can fill in the blanks.”

“Groceries,” Maggie whispered in her ear, “don’t forget the groceries.”

“And groceries,” Macy added.

“You’re doing the grocery shopping because none of us understand more than half of what’s on your shopping list,” Mel said. “Macy only got to 50% because she’s a literal scientist, that’s how incomprehensible it is.”

Harry blinked. “It’s just _food_.”

“I think they’re innocents,” Tia called, from behind her computer.

“What?” Harry said, “the food?”

“Come over here, look at this,” Tia called, and the Charmed Ones did, looking at pictures of students from the school.

“Aw, crap, there’s a party tonight,” Maggie said.

“Did you promise you would go?” Mel said, “you said you were going to stop making extra commitments until we got the magic thing sorted at least a little.”

“This was before then,” Maggie said, “Lucy’s boyfriend is hosting it or something? She was like, oh we need to support him, he’s got anxiety.”

“Of course he’s got anxiety,” Mel said, “have you seen how hot Lucy is? She’s going to come to her senses and dump him.”

“Wait,” Maggie said, “you know her boyfriend?”

“Not personally, but we’ve all seen her taste in men,” Mel said, “one of these days she’s going to be like, oh wait, I’m a catch actually.”

“Lucy is,” Macy said, “the. Blond one? Who likes snapping?”

“The snaps are to show support without more traditional methods that involve touching,” Maggie said, “which is to help me, you know, not read everyone’s mind.”

“You _told_ them about the mind reading?” Mel said.

Tia and Lawrence called from the other room, in unison, “no telling people!”

“No!” Maggie said, scandalized, “I just said I needed some personal space while I sorted through some stuff. They didn’t make me explain!”

“I like that,” Macy said, snapping, “like clapping, but fun.”

“You’ve never seen Legally Blond, have you,” Maggie said.

“No,” Macy said, “I heard it was good though. I’m happy to watch it if you want, I bet it’s a good sister bonding movie. I saw the, uh, the one with the cheerleader bank robbers?”

“Okay,” Maggie said, “we’re setting up a viewing schedule for you. We will get matching pajamas and popcorn and candy, and we will watch all these movies.”

“Okay,” Macy said, grinning.

“An _education_ ,” Maggie said, “you don’t know enough chick flicks. We’ll fix it, don’t worry. Then we can make Mel see Back to the Future.”

“You haven’t seen Back to the Future?” Macy asked, eyes wide.

“Oh, god, like I need to see a movie every dudebro tries to one up me by talking about,” Mel said.

“This is the same reason she refuses to watch Boondock Saints, V for Vendetta, and The Matrix,” Maggie said. “But not Fight Club for some reason?”

“I saw it on a plane,” Mel said, “anyway we can talk lit theory about the book later, right now we have to talk about this party.”

Macy gasped, then flipped through the Book of Shadows. “It says they draw power from chaos – from large scale disorganization and unpredictable behavior.”

“Wait, what?” Mel said. “Oh, ok, you mean, they want to be at a party, because they can cause trouble. Okay, let’s go to the party.”

“Wait what were _you_ talking about?” Maggie said.

“ _I_ was talking about you seeing Brian,” Mel said.

Tia Tia shook her head. “You really should break up with him, kiddo. He’s not good for you. I’ve seen the way you hold your phone when he texts.”

“He’s fine!” Maggie said, “he’s not that bad.”

“Your mom had a way with these things,” Uncle Lawrence told them. “If she says it’s not a good match, I think you should end it before it gets hurtful.”

“I was going to break up with him anyway!” Maggie said, “just maybe not right away but I was going to!”

“Good for you!” Tia said, “I don’t trust a kid who posts that much about his computer upgrades. By the way, you forgot to sign out of Tumblr.”

“You borrowed her computer?” Mel said, “your tablet is right upstairs, and your phone is literally one hundred percent of the time in your hand.”

“I needed to check if someone blocked me by IP!” Maggie shook her head, “but no I think they just deleted. Anyway. The party?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all going,” Mel said.

“Yes but do I get to pick your outfits?” Maggie said.

Macy shrugged. “You can pick mine, I never understood what made a party outfit different from a date outfit, but apparently some people really do not like that.”

“It’s like porn,” Maggie said.

“Do _not_ pick her outfit based on that,” Mel said.

Maggie scowled at her. “I mean _you know it when you see it_. Mel. Come on.”

Mel rolled her eyes.

“Brian,” Maggie said, and immediately left her sisters standing awkwardly at the door, sharing a very distinct Look.

“So, where are we going first?” Macy asked.

Mel looked around, uncomfortable in such a large crowd, and sighed. “I guess we should start with the list of people?”

“Great,” Macy said, and glanced at her phone, a list of people she didn’t know and wouldn’t recognize written down on it.

“Mel!” Lucy said, pulling her by the arm, “I was looking for Maggie, but come here, you’ve got to help me with something.”

And so Macy was entirely alone, in a town she didn’t know filled with people from a school she’d never gone to, trying to find who knew what with help from a list of random people that she didn’t even know why she wanted to talk to. Macy was having a _great_ day.

She grabbed a can of soda off the nearest table, sat down heavily on a couch, and tried to guzzle sugar water instead of making eye contact with anyone. It was probably counterproductive to her goals, because if you didn’t talk to anyone you certainly weren’t going to track down your Innocents, but that was life for you.

Then she saw three people skulking through the party. She wasn’t sure exactly what made it skulking, or whether one really _could_ skulk through a party that was open to the public and so full of people that no one would notice you even if it weren’t, but these three were. Mel had been too. Macy was pretty sure she’d be skulking if she were still walking around instead of drinking a soda and trying not to think too hard about where demons could be hiding at a party, unless they were these three. She considered whether to follow them, or try to figure out what they were up to, when one of them tripped over her leg just as she was drawing it closer to the couch to let them pass, and that sort of settled that one.

“Oh,” said the figure, brushing blond curls out of his eyes, “sorry. You’re Maggie’s friend, right?”

“Maybe,” Macy said, entirely unsettled by the entire encounter.

“I’m Wyatt,” he said, holding out a hand, even though he’d only half pushed himself up off the floor, “Maggie’s in my English class. She around?”

“She’s around,” Macy agreed, finally recognizing _Hot Wyatt_ , although not particularly either of his companions.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Wyatt said, “she said she’d help with my essay. We’re doing an essay? On Canterbury Tales. For class? English class, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Macy agreed, wondering why the hell he was still mostly on the floor.

He finally pushed himself all the way up, scrambling to do it at an angle that didn’t put him even with her skirt, and she regretted wearing one, even if he hadn’t actually looked up it, or even had a chance of seeing up it, which was physically impossible the way he’d turned himself and almost fallen over again. Macy smoothed the fabric down reflexively.

“ _Wyatt_ ,” hissed one of the two figures who had blended so far into the shadows in the corner of the room that Macy had actually forgotten about them, “let’s go already!”

“Oh,” Wyatt said, “have you met my brother?”

“I don’t think I’ve officially met you,” Macy said, startled and more than mildly unsettled. She put out a tentative hand. “Macy.”

Wyatt shook it with enthusiasm, then pushed his brother forward. “Chris, Macy. Macy, this is Chris, my brother.”

Out of the shadows, he didn’t look so much sinister as kind of lazily goth, dark hair flipped down over one eye and long enough to hang to his shoulders. He was wearing dark grays, to be fair, but closer to the light he just looked like another college student.

The third figure, on the other hand, _coalesced_.

 _She_ looked ominous as fuck, although Macy might have been projecting a little hard from the covers of novels, but the woman wouldn’t have looked out of place in an apocalyptic wasteland. ( _Been_ out of place, yes, probably, and Macy could go on about how leather and rivets weren’t actually going to do well especially in a desert, but the long sweeping coat sure as hell looked dramatic, and Macy wasn’t about to say word one to the woman’s face. Doubly so with that expression pointed at her. Anyway she could appreciate the design choice.) Macy tried to keep an eye on her even as she shook hands with Chris.

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“That’s my girlfriend, Bianca, it’s great meeting a friend of Wyatt’s if you even actually count, we have to go now,” Chris said, and dragged Wyatt by the arm.

“Hey,” Wyatt said, “tell Maggie to text me!”

“Tell Maggie he’s in love with her!” Chris called over his shoulder.

Bianca, for her part, studied Macy for a minute, gave a curt nod of approval, then winked and disappeared again, in a way Macy was entirely sure was magical, though she couldn’t for the life of her have described what it was or why Bianca was doing it. And in any case she was skeptical of _everyone_ being witches, though obviously _some_ people had to be.

Of course, speaking of witches, Macy had just had a thought about the three different potions. Because _chemically_ speaking they were nearly identical; it was the magical ingredients that seemed to give them different properties, which implied one could just use a spell in place of certain specific ingredients or ritualized preparation, given that spells _could_ be invented on the fly and also seemingly could do anything you could picture well enough. Macy really wished there were a book on theoretical magic.

Anyway, that meant they could make essentially a _blank_ potion, assuming they could find a way to prime it. Which meant they really _could_ uncurse the dogs, if they found them soon enough. Maybe stir in some hellhound fur or something.

Macy started taking notes on her phone.

Mel let Lucy pull her by the hand deeper into the party, keeping an eye out for any of the people she’d recognized in her mom’s handwriting, or otherwise demons, though that might be kind of hard considering she hadn’t actually seen one before and didn’t know what they looked like, except that one wraith, who Tia assured her didn’t look much like any other demon. None of them had, except Maggie, who had caught a glimpse of a hellhound before Uncle Lawrence had pulled her away, but Mel didn’t figure the hellhound looked much like the Huntsman anyway, considering they were supposed to be humanish.

It was times like this she really wished she could explain magic to Niko, who could probably give her advice on how to find these people. Either the demons or the Innocents, it didn’t matter. But then, even if Niko didn’t decide she was crazy, or else get attacked by the primal forces protecting magic apparently, she could still be in danger from magical things constantly. Mel could’ve told you things became more dangerous once you started paying attention to them even before the whole magic bit.

Of course, what she really wanted from Niko was to be able to pull on her PJs and curl up together and maybe read or watch a movie, whatever, as long as it involved not moving any more and being able to rest her head on Niko’s shoulder with warm arms wrapped around her. As long as she could speak in a soft voice about all the absolute bullshit going on around her. Not that Niko deserved to be eaten by a hellhound just because Mel was so goddamn tired.

Mel felt herself stop abruptly, and looked around, but Lucy wasn’t there anymore. She wondered where her sister’s friend had gone, if she’d seen Maggie, and was she coming back, not that it probably mattered either way.

“Hey,” a voice said.

Mel would’ve said she was attractive if she wasn’t a student (well, Mel would’ve used the phrase _stupid hot_ but again, this was someone she taught, so there was a level of professional distance) and in either case could appreciate the outfit. It took a moment, because the classroom casual of jeans and sweatshirts looked very different in an outfit that screamed _I will stab you in the face_ and anyway Mel had a girlfriend already.

“Hey,” Mel said, “Bianca, right?”

“Yup,” the voice said, “didn’t expect to see you at a party.”

Mel was torn between resenting that remark and wondering why she was being herded away from whatever room that was. She really hoped Bianca wasn’t hitting on her, because that would be a hell of an awkward conversation. “Just. Supporting my sister.”

“Cool,” Bianca said. “Seen anything weird lately?”

“Why, are the frats up to something again?” Mel asked, looking around for whatever ‘prank’ or sexual abuse the guys were involved in.

“You afraid of dogs?” Bianca asked.

Mel did a double take. “What?”

“Nothing,” Bianca said, “got to go.”

Mel, at this point, found herself next to another room, mostly empty, and Lucy inside it, waving her in as if they’d never parted ways, and kind of wondered whether she’d just imagined that whole conversation. Of course, daydreaming about students was not a great possibility, and also, if she was going to have awkward daydreams, they at least could’ve been more interesting. Or more coherent at the very least.

“What’s your poison?” Lucy said.

“Whisky,” Mel said, reflexively, then, “what?”

“It’s a secret bar,” Lucy stage whispered, “prohibition style. Secret passwords, or someone has to let you in. Don’t tell campus security.”

“Are you even old enough to drink?” Mel asked.

Lucy gave her a piercing look. “I am in every reasonable country. And anyway, when did the law ever stop anyone from getting a good buzz going? We were literally just talking about prohibition two seconds ago. Aren’t you Gender and Sexuality studies anyway? You really expect me to believe you don’t smoke.”

Mel shrugged, wondering how hard it would be to sneak off without upsetting Lucy, and sipped at her red cup with two fingers of whisky in it.

The plan was this: they would find the demon (somehow), whoever found it would get the other two sisters (texting), and then they would throw the potion at it (the potion was actually a bunch of chalk dust, but they’d needed magic to make it disperse properly – Harry had said ‘there’s a spell specific to Huntsman Demons’ but Macy had said the chalk dust should neutralize their powers given something about the chemical structure of the smoke they used to fling things around, assuming they could trick them into breathing it in, which Harry had complained about being too dangerous, but it sounded easier than using a three page spell and just hoping you didn’t get interrupted in the middle of it), then they would immobilize it (the stun gun Niko had given Mel), then they would use the Power of Three (again, somehow).

Mel was just trying to figure out how to distract Lucy and move on with the plan when some guy came in and stole the job out from under her, because heterosexuality came in handy from time to time, surprisingly.

Which was just in time, because she got a text saying, _found the demon_.

 _How_ she texted back, because it was one of those things that would probably be important for next time.

 _Is choking Brian_ , said the text _, and also on fire_.

Maggie was trying very hard to break it to Brian gently, but she kept breaking it _too_ gently, and accidentally agreeing to go out with him again. Which was very frustrating, and not at all what she meant. And then a roaring figure had come at her with just enough time for her to be surprised, when Brian had stepped in, and at this point Maggie was even more disappointed in the route their relationship took, because the Knight in Shining Armor routine was great, but also she was trying to be as unobtrusive as possible while she texted Mel and Macy.

And then she was trying to be silent as she fumbled a bottle of antigrav chalkdust out of her coat, because magic was just so very _weird_ even if they had to practice things half a dozen times before they got them right. She carefully unstoppered the bottle, and flung it in the direction of the demon and, unfortunately, Brian, who started coughing and rubbing his eyes as the demon let him go and went back to Maggie.

Maggie, who hadn’t thought past throwing the potion, realized that even if he didn’t exactly have magical powers anymore, he was still really tall and really broad, and she was still only in the first semester of her kickboxing classes, and also she couldn’t exactly read his mind to death now could she?

The possibilities, as far as Maggie was concerned, were that one or both of her love interests would come in to rescue her, which seemed extremely improbable, Brian would be suddenly victorious, which was undesirable as it meant she’d have to get back together with him, or that her sisters would burst in behind her and something something Charmed Ones. This was the one she was hoping for, as it was the only one that made sense, and also was probably more reliable than guys having plot-related romantic urges to ride to your rescue, no matter how awesome that would be, which was not very in the face of an actual on fire demon.

She wondered why he was still on fire, or if that wasn’t a power actually, and instead just an attribute they just. Had.

All demons? Or just this one?

Then she didn’t have to wonder any more because Macy and Mel burst in behind her, and the demon froze.

Well, actually, it was more like:

Macy threw a different bottle of chalkdust at the demon, which swirled in the air and made a pretty spiral, and also the bottle itself hit the demon in the face and bounced off its head long enough for Mel to get her stun gun, which she fumbled with, and then, when the demon lunged at her, screamed and held her hands in front of her face, and the demon froze. And also Mel shot the stun gun at the same time, but it didn’t do anything to the demon, which was frozen.

Maggie, meanwhile, had had an idea.

“Okay,” she said, “circle around him, quick, hold hands.”

They did, and there was a surge of power moving between them, just like there had been when they defeated the wraith.

“Do we use the same spell again?” asked Macy, growing increasingly flustered, “or a different one? Do we know any spells?”

“Make one up,” Mel said, “hurry! I don’t know why he froze or when he’ll stop!”

“Uh,” Maggie said, “uh! Demon, demon, go away, never come back another day!”

Against all odds, the Huntsman blew up as a surge of power closed inward.

Maggie, shaking out cramps in her hands where all three of them had gripped too tightly, turned around and said, “Brian, we have to break up.”

“Oh,” said Brian, finally blinking chalk dust out of his eyes. “Can we still be friends?”

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea,” said Maggie. “Maybe if we give it some time?”

“How much time?” asked Brian.

“Brian,” Maggie said, “if this is one of those things where you think we should keep being friends because secretly I’ll want to start dating you again, it’s not.”

“No, it’s just,” Brian said, “I have a math test on Friday and I would really like it if you could help me with that. But we don’t have to be friends if you’ll keep being my tutor without us being friends, I just don’t want to fail math.”

“Oh,” Maggie said, “that’s okay then.”

“Okay,” Brian agreed.

“But how did you find the demon?” Harry asked.

Dexter glanced at Macy, who shrugged and said. “It found us, more like. Or at least it found Maggie. I think I figured out how to uncurse the dogs.”

“I’d assumed you were just going to kill them,” Harry said, “they’re a lot easier to kill than Huntsmen. Or, at least, they are until they go wild.”

All eyes in the room turned to give him horrified looks.

“Don’t look at me like that!” he said, “I love dogs, but they can’t be rescued!”

“I just said they could,” said Macy.

“Well if they _can_ , I’d love to hear _how_ ,” Harry said. Then, after a beat, “no, that sounded sarcastic, this would actually be an extremely important innovation.”

“It’s a potion,” Macy said, “I reduced it to only active ingredients, only I still don’t know how to get the particular effect – so we’re doing a spell.”

“A blank potion?” Tia asked, “those can be incredibly dangerous. Be sure not to leave the house with it. You don’t know what might happen.”

“Wait, there’s an entire category of potion that you can just…leave out part of it until later?” Mel asked. “So, say, you could make it to vanquish a demon you don’t know what kind yet, and save it for later?”

“Wait, what?” Dexter asked. “What’s this abstract demon? What demon do you know is a demon but you don’t know what kind.”

“Professor Thaine,” Mel muttered, darkly.

“I know he’s a demon, but I don’t know that he’s a _demon_ ,” Maggie said, “but I guess there’s no harm in trying it out, is there?”

“There’s one,” Lawrence said, “it’s – complicated? Takes a week or so. And then you need, like, blood and hair.”

“If you had blood and hair, wouldn’t you be close enough to the demon to just lop its head off or something?” Dexter asked.

“That’s probably why no one’s ever heard of it,” Tia said. “I can’t imagine it’s all that useful in all that many situations.

“Okay,” Maggie said, holding up a piece of paper with four burn marks on it, “spell’s done! Four dogs.”

“Hellhounds,” Harry said.

Maggie smiled sweetly at him. “Not for long!”

“How are we planning on tracking the hellhounds, though?” Mel asked. Then, as Tia flipped through one of Marisol’s texts for the tracking spells she’d used before, Mel added, “oh, never mind. Niko says don’t go in the woods because of feral dogs.”

“To the woods?” Macy asked.

Mel nodded, and the pair headed out the door.

Maggie looked at Tia’s spell, pulled out her phone to take a picture, and added, “if you find something more specific text me!”

“Well, alright,” Tia agreed.

An hour later found the sisters with four dogs in their attic. They were rather larger than normal, and also on fire, and growled intermittently, but for the most part didn’t seem to be acting too distinctly from normal dogs, which was what they had been about 48 hours ago.

“Put them in the ritual circle!” Macy said, trying to push them off her as they sniffed at her clothes and hair. Dogs never liked her! Especially not four of them vying for the same attention at the same time.

“I’m trying!” Mel said, dragging one by the collar, even as the previous one left the circle to go back to Macy.

Maggie cleared her throat. “Sit,” she intoned. “Stay.”

The dogs did, in fact, sit, and stay.

“That wasn’t a spell,” Mel said. “Did you…what are you, a dog whisperer?”

“They’re pet dogs!” Maggie said, “they’re probably trained, you know, you have to figure. They’re pets!”

“Okay,” Macy said, handing over several small bottles, “put one of these on each of them. Um. Put on a glove first, you don’t want potion on you, and then…pat their heads? Or whatever dogs will put up with, just get the potion on them. One each.”

Maggie nodded, pulling on kitchen gloves, and poured a bottle out into her hand.

“Shouldn’t we find the spell first?” Mel said.

Macy looked through several of the boxes still piled in the attic. “Um. Right. I was going to say I think we have to make up a spell. But.”

“You found one?” Maggie asked.

“Not quite,” Macy said. “I found a box of photos of baby me with your mom. Only I’m like two years old in these. So like. Something’s going on here.”

“Maybe it’s not you?” Mel offered.

Macy snorted. “It’s me. They’re labelled ‘Marisol and Macy, 2 years’ and they’re all at this house also. How long did your mom live here?”

“Um, since right after her postdoc?” Mel said, “or she might have had a short adjunct thing for a year or two, but this is her first real permanent address.”

“Why did she live here with _me?_ ” Macy asked, “look, look at these photos of me and her and my dad. Like. Regular family pictures. It’s eerie.”

Mel walked over to look at them. “Oh my god. I hope this isn’t overstepping my bounds as basically a stranger, but I think your dad has some explaining to do.”

“No,” Macy said, “I was just thinking that.”

“Um, guys?” Maggie said, “not to be that person, but I’m standing here with a handful of potion goop and the dogs are getting bored.”

“Oh,” said Macy, “right. We still have to come up with a spell.”

“Can you hurry?” Maggie said.

Macy threw up her hands. “Maggie, I just found out my dad’s been lying to me my whole life and also I worked really hard on that potion, I’m creatively tapped out.”

“Spells are just rhymes,” Mel said.

“Not you too,” Macy said, “I can’t rhyme that quickly! You do it if it’s so easy!”

“No, I mean,” Mel said, slowly, “if they’re just rhymes, shouldn’t a rhyme someone else dropped already work just as well? I mean, we can use other people’s spells, and all of those were just made up at one time or another.”

“Look, if you’ve got a rhyme that fits, by all means,” Maggie said, rubbing goop into all four dogs’ heads. They looked mildly perturbed, but held still for it.

Mel stared at the ritual circle, waited until Maggie was out of the way, and said, “We’ll see how smart you are when the K-9 come/I got 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one.”

The fire extinguished, the dogs shrank, and the vague smell of sulfur disappeared. The dogs, clearly exhausted from their ordeal, lay down and began to pant. Maggie pulled off the gloves and offered them some water in a large dish.

“Holy shit,” Mel said. “It worked.”

“Yeah, that was,” Maggie said.

Mel grinned. “Inspired?”

“Ridiculous,” Maggie said. “How does that work? You can just say songs? Songs are magic now?”

“Apparently,” Macy said, staring at the dogs. “Actually, if you think about it, songs kind of make sense. I mean, they’re a conduit for emotion, right? Like your thoughts, your hopes, your will, you’re putting all that into it. That’s all a spell is.”

“I’ll take it,” Maggie said, and began brushing the leftover goop out of the dogs’ fur. “Any chance we can keep any of these?”

“No,” Mel said.

“Aw, please?” Maggie and Macy managed to say almost in unison.

“Okay, fine,” Mel said. “But only one. Or two.”

At that, Maggie and Macy high-fived, Mel rolling her eyes and joining in.


	3. S'mores

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minor mayhem and trouble naming dogs

Maggie wondered how a westie or bichon or whatever the tiny mop dog was could ever have been big enough to be a hellhound. (They’d been bigger than great danes. This little dog had been gradually shrinking over the past several days.) She also wondered what was a good name, because they couldn’t exactly keep calling them Big Dog and Little Dog. Especially because Big Dog wasn’t even that big, just some sort of german sheperd mix.

“Maggie?” Mel called from the other room, “do you have Small Dog in there with you?”

“Yeah,” Maggie called back, “she’s helping me do homework.”

Mel laughed. “Did you want lunch? Niko’s ordering subs for us.”

Maggie picked up Little Dog and wandered into the kitchen. “From the good place, or the place that accidentally drips jalapeno sauce on everything?”

Mel rolled her eyes. “Fine, we can get them from the boring place, Maggie.”

Niko gave Maggie a kiss on the cheek, and Little Dog a kiss on the nose. “Maggie. Tiny Dog! What a good girl!”

Little dog borked and began wagging her tail, repeatedly thumping Maggie in the side. Maggie shifted so the dog’s tail would hit her sweatshirt and not her ribs.

Niko grinned. “And you really haven’t thought of names yet?”

Maggie shrugged. “We can’t agree is all. We’ll figure them out.”

“I took the posters to the shelters,” Niko said, “but if the dog’s not microchipped, I don’t think they’re likely to find anyone. At least Big Dog is.”

“Yeah, if anyone will get back to us with a forwarding address,” Mel agreed, “but at least we can look after her for now.”

Maggie looked up from Niko’s phone, where she was customizing her sub. “Did you ask everyone else what they wanted?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Niko said, “your house is still full of people.”

“It’s not full,” Mel said, with the kind of intonation that meant she’d had this argument with Niko already, at least twice.

“It’s _a lot_ ,” Niko said, “but I think it’s nice that your mom’s old friends want to stick around and help out. You’re really sure Macy’s your _sister_ though?”

“Oh, yeah,” Maggie said. “We found a buttload of old photos of her. Well, a baby, but the dude in the photos is clearly her dad, so. And they’re all labeled Macy.”

“Huh,” Niko said. “What’s that about?”

“We have _no idea_ ,” Maggie said, practically squealing with excitement.

“Oh,” said Niko, “okay.”

“Actually, we should probably invite Macy and Dexter for lunch, if we’re all having lunch anyway,” Mel said, texting them.

Niko’s eyes widened slowly. “Alright, I guess. Maggie, you better get whoever’s in the house and ask them their orders, if we’re having a big group lunch thing.”

“Fun!” Maggie said, “I’ll call Lucy.”

“Wait,” Niko said, as Maggie went upstairs, “that’s my phone – Maggie that’s _my_ phone, oh alright then.”

“They’re coming over,” Mel said, smiling.

“I’ll buy that this is your sister,” Niko said, “but are you sure they aren’t running some sort of scam? Out of your life for decades, and as soon as your mom dies they come back?”

“Niko!” Mel said.

Niko waved her hands. “I’m not saying it’s definitely suspicious! I’m just saying it fits a pattern of behavior you want to keep your guard up about.”

“I like Macy!” Mel said.

“I like Macy too!” Niko said. “She’s nice! That’s the suspicious part!”

“Wait, so any time someone’s nice, it’s suspicious?” Mel asked.

“Um, yes?” Niko said, “I mean you have been spending an awful lot of time with her, I’m just saying.”

“Yeah? Well you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with _Greta_ who is definitely not your sister, and I didn’t say anything about that,” Mel said.

“She’s only in town for a little while!” Niko said.

“Yeah, and that doesn’t bother me,” Mel said, “unlike apparently me spending time with a long lost sister, which is _weird_ and _cool_ but that’s not enough explanation for you.”

“It sounds like it bothers you a little,” Niko said.

Mel shrugged. “Whatever. No it doesn’t.”

Niko’s mouth quirked up. “No? Not at all?”

“Oh, hey, Macy says she wants extra jalapenos and can you do that from the app or does she have to call in, and also Galvin will be joining us,” Mel said.

“You can do that from the app,” Niko said, which Mel dutifully texted to her sister, “who’s Galvin and why is he joining us?”

“Galvin’s Macy’s boyfriend,” Mel said, “wait, shit, I didn’t say that.”

Niko frowned. “Are we keeping this a secret _for_ Macy, or _from_ Macy?”

“I think Macy knows, I just don’t think she wants to admit it yet,” Mel said, “they’re like high school sweethearts or something, so it’s weird getting back together maybe? Also they work together which could be a little yikes.”

“Oh no, poor Macy,” Niko said. “Are you sure this is Macy because this sounds like more of a Maggie thing if we’re being honest?”

“Oh, Maggie,” Mel said, “ _Maggie_ is in the middle of courting a love triangle with two guys in her English class that’s she’s convinced love poetry with absolutely no evidence.”

Niko chortled. “Two more guys after Brian, or including?”

“Oh, no, she broke up with him,” Mel said.

Niko shook her head. “Finally. So, um, what’s the headcount for lunch then?”

“Uncle Lawrence and Tia Tia both want the special,” Maggie said, heading down the stairs, “Harry’s busy or something. He’s not here, at least. Lucy’s going to be here soon but she wanted to look at the menu.”

Niko turned to whisper to Mel, “is Lucy part of the love triangle?”

“Not as far as I know,” Mel whispered back, “I think she’s the new best friend?”

“Wait, what happened to Chelsea?” Niko whispered again.

“Oh, Chelsea’s old news,” Mel said, “she was waitlisted at NYU, right? She got in.”

“Oh, no, poor _Maggie_ ,” Niko said. Then, at a more audible volume, “hey, as long as you’re running a dog hotel, can you take Cocoa Bean?”

“Oh god what’s wrong?” Maggie said.

Niko shook her head. “Nothing’s wrong. The apartment’s just getting fumigated and she doesn’t want to be there while it happens.”

Maggie looked at the bundle of fluff in her arms. “Do you want another friend for a few days? Do you?” Little Dog wagged her tail so hard it made an audible thump.

“Honey! I’m home!” a voice called from the entryway.

“Lucy!” Maggie called back, handing the dog to Niko.

Niko petted the dog’s head, made a few cooing noises, and said, “are you _sure_ she’s not part of the love triangle or quadrangle or whatever?”

“Quadrangle?” Mel said, “isn’t that just a square?”

“Not sure,” Niko said, agreeably, “I think that’s how you have to say it for when a bunch of people are or aren’t dating each other, though.”

“Oh, man, I knew I should’ve taken notes when Maggie was explaining this,” Mel said.

Tia and Lawrence came down the stairs chatting to each other about some TV show Mel had never seen (guessing from the totally unfamiliar content), and Dexter and Macy filed in ahead of Lucy and Maggie, Galvin carefully shutting and locking the door behind them.

“When did you get here?” Mel asked.

“Just now?” Macy said.

Maggie snorted. “Did you think Lucy just, like, teleported in on her own? She doesn’t have a key, Mel.”

“I thought maybe you forgot to lock the door again, honestly,” Mel said.

“Hey guys!” Lucy said, “I know this is just a casual lunch – and I’m so happy you thought of me Maggie I love you – but my mother told me never to show up to lunch empty handed or I would end up a bitter drunken divorcee not that that’s important anyway, I brought wine, who wants red and who wants white?”

“Can’t,” Niko said, “I’m back on duty – damn, I’m going to have to leave practically as soon as the sandwiches get here. Let me order, Maggie.”

“Oh, I already ordered!” Maggie told her. “I put in everyone’s and I ordered it.”

“Sorry, let me rephrase,” Niko said, “give me my damn phone back, Maggie!”

Maggie laughed and tossed it over.

Niko caught it with a horrified look, as Mel snapped, “Maggie!”

“I mean my mom says wine goes with anything, but I guess you can’t really trust my mom, especially these days,” Lucy said. “I think it’s fine, though.”

Tia, who had gone with a red like Lucy, said, “it’s a bit of an odd flavor, I think, but I’m enjoying it. I never did like soda with them even if it is traditional.”

“Weird, but fun,” Mel agreed, sipping at her white.

Niko laughed, “aw, now I feel left out!”

Lawrence, who had pushed his wine away after a few sips, said, “they’re lying, it’s not as good as it sounds.”

“It’s better than it sounds!” Dexter said, “it sounds terrible, how could it not be better?”

“It does not sound terrible,” Maggie pronounced, “it sounds great, because Lucy is right, wine does go with anything and everything, or also on its own.”

“Damn straight,” Lucy said.

Mel quirked an eyebrow. “How does this work with campus being dry lately?”

“Oh, that,” Lucy said, with a slight hiccup, “that will be over before you know it. Won’t last out the year. Ridiculous rule, anyway, we’re all adults.”

“Except for Maggie,” Galvin said, with a laugh.

“It’s my birthday in a _week_ ,” Maggie said, “anyway you have no room to talk, you don’t even know what wine tastes like.”

“I know what it tastes like,” Galvin said, “I just don’t like it.”

“I like how it tastes usually,” Macy said, “I don’t like how it tastes with subs.”

“Maybe it’s the flavor of the one you picked?” Maggie said, “hey, Uncle Lawrence, you pick a different one too. Let’s make Wine and Sandwiches a weekly thing.”

Lawrence raised an eyebrow. “Um. No.”

Macy tried her wine again, and pulled another face. “I have to agree. It’s not going to be a weekly thing. I don’t even think it’s going to be a right now thing, but I have nothing else to drink, so I keep accidentally thinking it won’t be that bad.”

Maggie covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. “Just a sec, I’ll grab you a soda. Anyone else?”

“I’ll have one,” Galvin said, while Lawrence said, “just water, please.”

“I’ll have a water too,” Niko said.

“Boo, water’s boring,” Lucy said. “I’ll have a soda!”

“You’ll have a water, too,” Maggie pronounced. “You know it’s only lunchtime, right?”

“Yeah, i.e., the perfect time for wine,” Lucy said, hiccupped again, and added, “ooh, I think my mom’s getting to me.”

Maggie uncapped a water bottle and handed to her, warning her to drink the whole thing, before she passed around the sodas. (And Lawrence’s water, with another joke from Lucy about him being boring, and Niko’s water, which succeeded without comment.)

“Is there really an alcohol ban on campus?” Macy asked.

Mel nodded. “It’s about Angela Wu – which, you know, she didn’t even overdose on alcohol, and also extenuating circumstances – but administration’s all ‘taking a stand’.”

“I don’t like it,” Niko said, “every time they ban alcohol, alcohol related crimes and especially injuries go up. People get worried they’re going to get in trouble and try to sleep off alcohol poisoning. I don’t need to break it to any more families, you know?”

“I hear you,” Tia agreed, “we’ve got enough grieving families without some kids making dumb mistakes worried about their scholarships. That poor girl.”

“Wait, what extenuating circumstances?” Lawrence said.

“The whole thing with Professor Thaine,” Maggie said.

“You know,” Lucy said, “how he’s a creepo scumbag?”

“Oh my god he did something _else_?” Lawrence said, “I thought they’d got rid of him.”

“No such luck,” Macy said. “He’s won some awards, got some good press – they’re letting people drop his class for full refunds, but he’s still teaching. Still allowed to directly oversee the interns at work, too, still running the lab generally.”

“Wait, you’re working for this guy?” Dexter asked.

“I’m avoiding him, mostly,” Macy said.

“Yeah, none of us let him be alone with anyone anymore,” Galvin added.

“Especially the interns!” Macy said. “I have to keep looking out for one of them – she keeps, I don’t know, she’s going to get herself arrested I think, trying to corner him and engineer, like, a lab accident.”

“She’s not really, is she?” Galvin asked.

“I don’t know,” Macy said, “she’s determined to do _something_.”

“Good for her,” Mel said.

“I mean, not if she accidentally explodes,” Macy said.

“I’m going to get you some kind of protection amulet,” Dexter said. “I’ll look up which is best for this kind of thing, keep him away from you.”

“He’s religious!” Lawrence said, suddenly wide-eyed.

“I know,” Galvin said, tilting his head slightly, “I’ve known the Vaughns for a while.”

“Oh, that’s fun,” Niko said, “you guys are all into witchy stuff, too, right Mel?”

“I’m more into, like, the history of it,” Mel said, “but yeah, it’s been a fun talking point, you know, historical context, modern religious context.”

“I’m looking for a coven around here,” Macy said. “You know any?”

“Unfortunately,” Niko said, “the only one I knew about was because they were actually a front for arms dealers, so, they’re all in jail, sorry. Shit, actually, I have to go.”

“To catch the arms dealers?” Lucy said.

Niko patted her on the shoulder. “No, honey, we caught those already. We’re going to get another, different bad guy.”

“Oh, good for you,” Lucy said, “as long as you’re not shooting unarmed children and doing police brutality and all.”

“We try not to,” Niko agreed.

“Oh, no, was that offensive? Did I offend her?” Lucy whispered, although quite loudly, as she was speaking to Maggie all the way across the table.

Maggie laughed. Niko just raised an eyebrow and waved goodbye to everyone.

Mel blew her a kiss.

Niko blew a kiss back, and added. “I’ll drop Bean by later today – it’s okay to leave her with anyone who’s here, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mel said, “I’ll let Harry know, but we all love dogs.”

“I will take the dog if necessary,” Macy said, “but I’d prefer not, if possible.”

“You don’t like dogs?” Niko said, concerned.

“I love dogs,” Macy said, “they don’t seem to like me, usually.”

“She gets that from me, I’m afraid,” Dexter said, “dog phobia. Sorry.”

“Huh,” said Niko, “you seem to do okay with Big Dog and Little Dog.”

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Dexter said, “they’re a lot nicer than most dogs, I think.”

“Well, Bean’s the sweetest Good Girl in the whole world,” Niko said, with a grin, “doesn’t even bark mostly, so I think she’ll be quite calming to be around.”

“Good to know,” Dexter said.

“Good luck solving a murder!” Lucy yelled, louder than strictly necessary. “Or whatever else crime is happening!”

“Thank you!” Niko called back, and left.

“Honey, do you want to slow down maybe?” Tia said, pressing a hand against Lucy’s wine glass. “No judgement, but you look a little red.”

Lucy burst into tears. “I think my boyfriend’s cheating on me.”

“Oh my god,” Maggie said, “what? Why?”

“I don’t know!” Lucy said, “but he’s been acting weird, and he’s been gone the last three full moons!”

“Full moons specifically?” Mel asked.

“Yeah, because I kept wanting to do a picnic, night picnic, and look at the moon,” Lucy wailed, “but he was busy. Busy! Who is she?”

“Maybe it’s nobody,” Macy said, “maybe he’s a werewolf.”

“A werewolf!” Lucy repeated, and cried harder.

“He’s not a werewolf,” Lawrence said quickly, “werewolves aren’t real.”

“I think we all know werewolves aren’t real,” Galvin said, with a laugh.

“Lucy might not, she’s very drunk,” Maggie said sweetly.

“You absolute bitch,” Lucy said, “I know…werewolves…I know what a werewolf is. How dare you…insinuate…how dare.”

“Drink your soda,” Maggie said.

Tia turned to the rest of the table. “Are we giving her advice on her love life?”

“My advice is, if you think he’s cheating, it doesn’t matter if he is, the relationship isn’t being good to you the way you need,” Dexter said.

“My advice is to dress up in ridiculous disguises and have wacky adventures,” Lawrence said. “The drama of it all generally makes things worse, but the hijinks make you feel better.”

“Oh,” Macy said, “that’s where Maggie gets it from.”

“Hey!” Maggie said. “They do make you feel better!”

“Yeah,” Lucy said, “yeah, that’s the one. What should I…disguise? Who should I be?”

“I’d suggest you just talk it out,” Tia said. “Tell him what’s bothering you, tell him what he could do to make you feel better, and work to address the issue. Of course, that’s advice no one ever takes, so I won’t be surprised if you don’t.”

“He’s not much of a talker,” Lucy said seriously. “If I bring up emotions he tries to change the subject. And anyway, he wouldn’t tell me if he’s cheating, would he?”

“He might,” Tia said, “or at least he might tell you what’s going on if it’s something else. There can be lots of things going on besides another partner.”

“I think you should dress up as a Park Ranger,” Lawrence said, “then Maggie can dress as a tree, and if anyone sees you doing anything, you can pretend you’re just inventorying the trees and all, as Park Rangers do.”

“I think you might have no idea what a Park Ranger is,” Dexter said.

“As may be,” Lawrence said.

“I feel like,” Maggie said, slowly, “a bear might make more sense.”

“Fine, a bear and a tree,” Lawrence said, “sounds outrageous enough to me.”

“This certainly does sound more like the college years than open conversation,” Tia said, “so you may as well go for it. Mistakes work better when you make them for yourself.”

“Mistakes are a good thing?” Galvin asked.

“No, but they’re not so bad as all that, either,” Tia said, “and anyway, no one listens to those older and wiser, which is sometimes good, because we can become stuck in our ways, but often leads to heartbreak. I think Maggie might have the right of it.”

“Why, what does Maggie do?” Galvin asked.

Macy grinned. “She turns it into a romance novel, you know? Find the drama, tug at it, abstract it a little and it’s easier to deal.”

“Yeah, but,” Lucy sobbed, “am I the lead? Is this my time to realize he was holding me back and reinvent myself? Or is _she_ the lead? And she’s saving him from a horrible destructive relationship! Which makes _me_ the evil one!”

“Aw, Lucy, you’re not evil!” Maggie said, standing up to give her a hug.

“Are we hugging now?” Lucy asked, blearily, “hugs again?”

“Yeah, Lucy, hugs again,” Maggie said, patting her head.

“What if he’s the lead?” Galvin asked.

Lucy glared at him, “then it’s just another shitty novel by another braindead straight dude about how many notches he can get in – and I bet he’d just call me, like, the psych major with the nice rack or something. And make fun of how I pee.”

“How you _pee_?” Lawrence said.

“Yeah, cause, you know,” Lucy huffed and pushed her hair out of her eyes, “you know about girls, like, dude writers are mad we don’t pee standing up.”

“Is that…is that a thing?” Dexter asked.

“Oh, believe me, it’s a thing,” Mel said.

“That, and being really, really weird about menstruation,” Macy added.

“And the boobs!” Maggie said, “oh my god, the boobs.”

“I love boobs,” Mel said, “and I would never talk that way.”

“Wait!” Maggie said, leaving to grab her notebook, “I have a compilation.”

After they’d sent Lucy home to sober up (with Galvin graciously driving her and making sure she actually got inside okay), Tia said, “let’s check that prophecy book of your mother’s. I got a feeling there’s another one coming up.”

Maggie looked at her skeptically, “you get premonitions too?”

“No, Magpie,” Tia said, then swept a hand around, “little things have been changing – and that generally means something’s coming.”

“Not Harry’s Apocalypse?” Dexter asked.

Tia shrugged. “Could be. I hope it’s just that. Of course, I think she intended the girls to check the book every day, so I think we’re overdue.”

“I checked a couple days ago and it just said to remember my library book,” Mel said.

“And did you?” Maggie asked, with a knowing smile.

“Aw, shit, my library book,” Mel said. “Thanks anyway, mom.”

“Are we really _hoping_ that it’s the _apocalypse_?” Macy asked.

“Eh, there’s one of those every couple years at least,” Lawrence said, “you kind of get used to it when you’re a Warren witch.”

“You’ve stopped _apocalypses_?” Macy asked, voice rising in pitch.

He shrugged. “Yeah? I mean Marisol and I took care of quite a few things that were or were about to be the apocalypse. One time with evil dodos.”

“How does _that_ work?” Maggie asked.

“Basically the same as the hellhounds?” Lawrence said, “only it was introduced into the DNA strings so people who tried to clone them, I don’t know, it was – well, it was like, people would want dodos more, because they were cloned, and, uh, eventually they would turn.”

“Right,” Mel said.

“I’m not explaining it well,” Lawrence said.

“You’re telling me my mom fought _evil dodos_ and we’re just now hearing about this?” Maggie said, “so not okay mom!”

“I mean,” their uncle told them, “it was mostly a mad scientist. She hadn’t made any dodos yet. Just. Added demonic genes into an egg or something.”

“Okay, right. We will go over that in detail later,” Macy said, “right now…no, the book says we’re good for a couple more days.”

“Yeah?” Mel said, looking over her shoulder, “oh, good! It has covens for you to look into! Oh, it’s too bad mom didn’t leave notes on them.”

“No, that makes sense, though,” Tia said, “she already had a group of us who regularly got together, she wouldn’t have gone for anything local. Logistically it was a bit of a nightmare, but we worked really well together. Before she became an elder, of course.”

“Of course,” Mel said. “How did that work again?”

“She did good works, she died, she got reincarnated as a different kind of magical being and was responsible for overseeing witches,” Tia said.

“Right,” Mel said, “something we’ve all been informed of in a way we understood and that definitely made sense and wasn’t confusing. That we knew all along.”

“Well, it says on the cover, I did suppose,” Tia told her, flipping the book closed to show Mel the title, tapping the word ‘Elder’.

“I mean, yeah, sure,” Mel said, “it still fails to cover a lot of ground. Like. A lot.”

“Seriously,” Macy said. “What are they?”

“They’re a type of magical being, in charge of overseeing witches,” Tia repeated.

“Okay. But. Why?” Macy asked.

Tia waggled her hand. “Something about cosmic forces and the balance between Good and Evil – capitalize those if you’re going to write them – and keeping the universe in order. A whole grand plan, but you’re not responsible for most of it. I never bothered keeping track.”

“You can choose to be a Good Witch or an Evil Witch,” Lawrence said, “once you come into your powers, or when you reach adulthood.”

“Ooh,” Maggie said, “I can choose to be an Evil Witch next week!”

“Please don’t,” Mel said.

“How can you tell?” Macy asked. “I mean, what if Mel and I had accidentally been Evil Witches all along, is that possible?”

“No,” Dexter told her, “I mean, aside from, obviously you’re the nicest witch out there, Macy, I don’t think you’d have done an evil act at all to be able to choose Evil, but in any case, you can tell. Your powers would look different, smell of brimstone or despair or something.”

“I think you may be biased,” Macy said.

“Biased?” Dexter said, wrapping his daughter in a hug, “to say my daughter is sweet and good and kind? So much so she loves dogs even when they run away from her?”

“You just have to admire them from a distance,” Macy said, “that’s not hard. Everyone with dog allergies does that.”

Dexter laughed. “You helped people, even without knowing you were a witch I guess, and that put you firmly on the side of Good.”

“Okay, I’ll assume I helped someone, too,” Mel said, “or was that the hellhounds? Because I definitely helped there. Anyway – Macy, look through the covens, see if any of them are any good. We’ll get together after Maggie’s study date and deal with that infestation.”

“Infestation?” Tia said, “that doesn’t sound good.”

“I think it’ll be fine,” Mel said, “there were a spell marked to look up in the Book of Shadows, I’ll find it and copy it before we need it, check if there’s any ingredients or anything, but it looks quick, especially with the Power of Three.”

“What kind of coven do you want, anyway?” Maggie said. “Like…just to be religious with, or like, actual magic witches like us?”

“I don’t know,” Macy said, “I think I’ll just have to feel it out.”

“Hey Wyatt,” Maggie said. Then, when she noticed everyone else there, “oh.”

“Maggie!” Wyatt said, “I don’t know if you know everyone? This is Parker, Layla, Brandon, Mia, and I think you’ve met Chris. Um. Have you heard from Lucy?”

“Oh,” Maggie said, “I don’t think she’s coming. She. Um. Wasn’t feeling well.”

“Oh, no,” Wyatt said, “that’s too bad. Chris, take notes for her.”

“I’m not your fucking stenographer Wyatt,” Chris said.

“Just take the notes, Chris,” Wyatt said, “it’s not _the end of the world_.”

Chris rolled his eyes, but pulled out a notebook and set a pen to it.

“Hey, you guys heard this thing?” Brandon said, “apparently they had to close off the entire basketball court because someone spray painted it or something.”

Mia cut in, “I thought they’d stolen all the basketballs.”

“No shit?” Brandon said, “same people or different people?”

“I mean those can hardly be the same people, can they?” Layla said, “who would want both those, what, pranks? They just. Aren’t remotely the same, are they?”

“I think you’re right,” Parker said, “sounds weird for the same people.”

“Are we going to discuss the book at any point?” Chris asked, but everyone ignored him.

“When did this happen?” Maggie asked, taking a seat.

All eyes turned to Brandon, who shrugged and looked at Mia. She said, “I have no idea, but I heard the equipment locker was emptied out this morning.”

“Don’t you need a key to that specifically?” Wyatt asked. “Actually, I thought you needed a key to the gym too, and not the same one.”

“I saw them taking away broken stuff,” Brandon said, “maybe glass or something. Someone could’ve broken a window I think.”

“A window?” Layla said, “boring.”

Mia grinned. “How would you have broken in?”

“Tape over the lock on the roof door,” Layla said, “and then hang glide in from the next building. Well, rappel or whatever, but the image isn’t as funny.”

“Sweet,” Maggie said, despite herself.

“The beauty of it,” Layla said, “is that you can – I mean the spray paint, obviously you take that with you in a backpack or whatever – but you can take the basketballs up to the roof and just toss them over one by one, to whoever you’re working with.”

“Wouldn’t someone notice?” Wyatt asked.

“If it’s the middle of the night, maybe not,” Maggie said, “you only see a couple people around there at night, and they’re usually high.”

“Still, you’d want to be quick, I think,” Mia said, “so maybe, what, two people to put the basketballs, I don’t know, in a big sack, or an SUV, and one person to run them back and forth, another to spray paint?”

“Didn’t all of you already decide the spray paint was someone else?” Chris asked, but again, the rest of the group ignored him.

“Four people’s doable,” Layla said. “I think you wouldn’t have too hard a time coordinating four people. More than that, your plan starts to fall apart.”

“We got the study group, didn’t we?” Maggie said.

“What?” Layla asked.

Maggie gestured around at all of them. “This is eight people, and only one is missing. I think you could get a couple more, if you had contingencies for people missing, you know. I mean, it’s not that complicated a plan, wouldn’t take _so_ much coordination.”

“No, that’s true,” Parker said, “in high school I stole the rival school’s mascot – like, the uniform, not an actual animal – and it was like a dozen of us, and a couple guys were busy or forgot or whatever, but it worked.”

“Wasn’t much security, I guess,” Layla said.

“No, but,” Parker said, “I mean, how secure is the gym?”

“One security guard, loops around every twenty, twenty-five minutes,” Chris said, “doesn’t look too closely, though. Keypad for the alarm, but the code is the same for the science building. They only change it a few times a year, once per term.”

“Excuse me, _what_?” came several voices at once.

“It’s a gym,” Chris said. “It’s not like there are tripwires or lasers or anything. There’s a couple cameras inside, but they have a lot of blindspots. Breaker box is outside, anyway, I’d just cut the power to the building, they’d think it was a normal power outage.”

“Oh, shit,” Mia said, “I think there _was_ a power outage.”

“Real one, or contrived?” Chris asked.

“And how am I supposed to know that, Mr. Memorizes-the-Guard’s-Rounds like an actual facts cat burglar,” Mia said, “I just heard the power was out.”

“We should investigate the box,” Chris said.

“Chris,” Wyatt said, putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m sure it’s not,” Chris said, “but since no one seems to want to discuss the book? I swear, they’re harder to keep on task than our aunts. Especially _Parker_ why did you even invite him oh my god.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Parker asked.

“Okay, fine,” Maggie said, “let’s talk themes of isolation.”

“Hey,” Macy said, to Lawrence, “can we talk?”

“Of course,” he said, “I’ve always got time for one of my favorite nieces.”

“What?” Macy said.

“I mean, I’m technically your uncle,” he told her, “I know we don’t really know each other, but I am your mother’s brother.”

“I, uh, wow,” Macy said, “I hadn’t really thought about that.”

“Is this about the dodos?” Lawrence asked, “because –”

“No, it’s, um,” Macy pulled out a photograph of Marisol holding her, seemingly right after the hospital, judging by the blanket she was swaddled in.

“Aw, baby you!” he said, looking at the picture, “we used this one for her baby shower, actually – you came early so we had to postpone it until after.”

“I,” Macy said, “okay.”

“What about it?” Lawrence asked.

“Well,” Macy said, “I was wondering if you knew why there are photos of me living here with Marisol until I was two.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I get that it’s some kind of family secret,” Macy began.

“Is it?” he said, “I mean, I get why they’d keep it from you, but secret seems a little strong, now that you’re an adult, anyway.”

Macy crossed her arms over her chest. “So, you have no problem telling me?”

“None whatsoever,” Lawrence said.

Macy raised her eyebrows, “well? Get on with it, then.”

“Well, it’s just complicated,” he said.

“So start at the beginning,” Macy said.

“I mean, that’s the complicated part, I think,” he said, “or one of them, anyway.”

“Start with me being born,” Macy said, “and work from then to the present.”

“Okay, so you were born early,” Lawrence said, “everyone teased Marisol that she hadn’t seen it coming, anyway I asked my whitelighter to zap me in special, you know, she did me a favor. You’re not supposed to, but they’ll help for special occasions.”

“Not Harry?” Macy asked.

“No,” Lawrence said, “I mean he was for a while when we were teenagers, but he stuck with Marisol, I got a different one. Natalie. Anyway, I stuck around for about a month for new baby help.

“Weird,” Macy said. “I mean, it makes sense, don’t get me wrong, but like. You took care of me as a baby. And yet you introduced yourself to me like a stranger.”

“But like. Wouldn’t it be weirder to act like I know you?” he shrugged. “We never met, really. I only knew you for a couple years, and you know, you were. A baby. A literal baby.”

“Right,” said Macy, “how many years?”

“Two and a half or so?” Lawrence waggled a hand. “I mean you were about two and a half when Marisol died and Charity kicked you out.”

“Of course,” Macy said, “that makes sense. Who’s Charity, why did she have the power to kick me out, and Marisol died – that’s the elder thing? The reincarnation.”

“Charity is a different elder,” Lawrence said.

“Okay, who was, what, in charge of Marisol?” Macy said, “but why did that mean she could just…send me away I guess?”

“Well, she didn’t want your dad or you around your mom,” he said, “she thought –”

“My dad was there the whole time?” Macy said.

Lawrence nodded, shrugged. “I mean, they were happy together. They were planning on getting married – or, I don’t know if they actually got married, they might have eloped – they wanted a family. Charity thought your dad was a bad influence –”

“Lawrence,” Dexter said.

“Dexter,” Lawrence said.

“Macy, didn’t you think you could come to me with these questions?” Dexter asked.

Macy waved a hand. “I mean, you had my whole life to tell me. If you’d intended to I think you would’ve by now? Especially after the whole witch thing and me meeting my sisters, and like, being a Charmed One. It seems like a reasonable opportunity?”

“Well, you’ve had your story all your life,” Dexter said, “I didn’t want to upend that. Your mother and I had no choice, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, some asshole named Charity chased you away,” Macy said. “Was I really an accident, or was that a lie too?”

Dexter paused a moment, and then sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. “No, you were planned. We wanted a family together. Several children if we could. That fell apart.”

“Okay,” Macy said, “so everything you ever told me in my life was a lie. I think I need some time to process this. You – you can leave.”

“If you really need that time, I’ll go,” Dexter said, “but Macy, what I said was true. Marisol wasn’t ready to be a family with us, not when it meant turning her back on everything she knew, effectively switching sides. She did what she could from afar.”

“I’m not mad at _her_!” Macy said, “ _you_ didn’t tell me I was a witch, _you_ didn’t tell me I had sisters, _you_ didn’t tell me mom wanted me, wanted us to be a family, and _you_ didn’t tell me I had all this history I never knew to look at. For all I know, you aren’t telling me what you know about her murder, which I think is pretty clear at this point is what it was. So, frankly, I don’t know what other secrets you’re keeping from me, and I don’t care! Just go!”

“Okay,” Dexter said, with a nod, “let me know if you need me, anytime, anywhere, and I’ll be there as soon as I can. I love you, Macy.”

Macy let out a wordless yell and used her magic to push over a vase of colorful beads, watching them scatter across the floor and down the stairs, making slightly hollow clacking sounds every time they tumbled down another step. Then, one by one, she called them back to her, placing and holding them in neat stack until the urge to scream at everything went away.

“Just relax and let the power come to you,” Tia said.

Mel took a deep breath, threw the paper in the air again, and waved her hands at it, but again, nothing happened.

“Are you sure it’s your hands?” Tia asked.

“What do you mean?” Mel said, “that’s what you do magic with, right?”

“Oh, anyone can learn to, if they spend enough time at it, I think,” Tia said, “I’ve met many witches who worked to change foci, who figured it out to greater or lesser degrees. You might use your hands, but you might use anything you can target people with – your legs or your head, you know. Or anything you can sense people with – your eyes, your ears, that prickling sense in the back of your neck…or even your nose, if you were so inclined.”

Mel had to laugh as she caught Tia’s grin. “I’m not sure I really understand the power. I mean, I’m getting a bunch of molecules to stop, all at once, but…then what? And how?”

“Oh, darling child, people have been studying that one since studying was invented,” Tia said, “I wouldn’t know where to start, thought I would suppose Marisol’s library would have at least some of the answers.”

“Okay,” Mel said, “but…practically?”

“The practical,” Tia said, “is feel the magic. That surge when you do a spell? What is it…warmth? Happiness? Apple flavor?”

“Apple flavor?” Mel said, with a laugh, “no, it’s like. Huh. It’s like getting in a pool, only it’s not cold – it’s not like a warm bath either, sort of in between? It’s not hot or cold, it’s not really any temperature, but it feels like being immersed in water. Only not wet.”

“Don’t knock apple flavor,” Tia said, “my own tastes like lemon candies from time to time, I imagine it would be quite helpful. But yes, imagine water, then, the boundless ocean. That’s magic. Now dip your toe in.”

Mel closed her eyes and tried to picture what Tia was telling her. She could feel it traveling not around her toes but between her fingertips, like soaking her hands before a manicure. When she opened her eyes, they almost seemed to glow, but then the feeling and the glow faded. She felt vaguely disappointed.

“Wonderful,” Tia said, to Mel’s surprise, “now how did it feel to do a spell with your sisters, more of the same?”

“If by myself is the ocean, I’d say more like a waterfall?” Mel hazarded.

“Ooh, delightful,” Tia said, “I can picture that quite clearly, actually. Alright. Now – you helped make that potion to treat Small Dog and Large Dog, didn’t you?”

“I was thinking, maybe Marshmallow for the small one?” Mel said.

“Hmm, I like it, could fit,” Tia said. “Marshmallow…yes.”

“Oh, but the, uh, potion,” Mel said, “yeah, making it up felt, I don’t know, more like – well if we’re going with the ocean, like sand maybe? Hot sand on a sunny day, like at the beach. Sort of complementary but not the same, do you know what I mean?”

“That’s the usual way,” Tia said, “almost everyone I try this technique with, that’s what they describe to me. Now. We just need to find how your powers feel. Something similar, no?”

“Okay,” Mel said. “Right. So. Maybe, a towel? Too literal? Maybe feels like sun, sunshine, maybe smells like beach smells, or it could be –”

“Mel?” Macy said, holding her jacket in her arms, and tugging at it.

“Macy?” Mel said, “are you okay?”

“No, not really,” Macy said, “I could really use someone to talk to, if you’re not busy. And a smoothie.”

“No, of course, let’s get smoothies,” Mel said.

“I,” Macy said, “kind of chipped your vase. I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh, the one at the top of the stairs?” Mel said, “that was, like, a dollar, it was a dorm thing or whatever from when I was a freshman and tried living on campus.”

“Didn’t work out?” Macy asked.

“Ha! No,” Mel said, “I was home all the time anyway and then I felt really bad that I had taken up a whole spot on campus. I need to replace all the vases anyway, I think.”

“What, why?” Macy asked, “just because I chipped one? There might be a way to fix that. Like a spell or something.”

“No, not that,” Mel said. “All of them have had cracks or chips in them lately, the past few days I’ve been noticing they’re getting kind of scratched and cloudy and all. I think they’re just getting old. Not a big deal.”

“Yeah,” Macy said, “a bunch of my sweaters shrunk in the wash, so I get it. Been kind of meaning to replace some of my wardrobe, I think. Some of those were from high school.”

“It sucks when they shrink when they’re that broken in,” Mel said, “even if you’re not planning on wearing them out, they’re still so comfortable by that point.”

“Yeah,” Macy said, “none of my favorites, really, but I may have to double check the washer and dryer settings, see if that’s the problem.”

“You can borrow some of my clothes, if you want?” Mel said, “I don’t think you can wear my pants, but I probably have a lot of tops that’ll fit you.”

Macy smiled. “I was planning on buying some stuff. The most formal I have is like, business casual, and I think the company expects dressier than that from us.”

“Oh, better talk to Maggie about that, then,” Mel said.

Maggie, upon getting a text that read _getting smoothies_ from Macy, ran a hand through her hair and let out a huff. Finally! It wasn’t like they were getting sister bonding time at all living in a house filled with so many other people, and Macy didn’t even live there anyway, she was just over all the time, but when she did come over she usually brought her dad and then it was more crowded with less time for everyone. Although he had been helping them index their mom’s magical library – which was just lying there in plain sight and wasn’t that some sort of problem with the weird eldritch beings that would eat them for talking about magic or something – and also he mixed a mean margarita.

But what they really needed was some time to themselves, and so far they’d only had manicures, which they’d taken Niko and Lucy to so they couldn’t talk about magic stuff at all. (Which was fine because lots of the time Maggie was just like why can’t we live in a magic free world just for a little while. The world of magic was not at all like her books, wherein very few things tried to kill the protagonist, nothing tried to steal her powers, and sexy magical creatures fell helplessly in love with her, bringing her presents and trying to win her favor by showing her awesome magical stuff. Where was Maggie’s cool magical vacation spots or whatever?? Also, were there cool magical vacation spots? Or maybe there were cool regular vacation spots that had a lot of witches there or something.) Anyway, Maggie really needed to sort through some of the mind reading thing, because even though she’d gotten a lot more of the hang of it, and people were touching her less, she still had to deal with: Brian was still kind of in love with her even though he was trying to stop and also he was migraine-inducingly terrible at math, Lucy was beginning to suspect she might have an alcohol problem, one of the other sisters that Maggie had never even met before planned to accuse her of stealing???, Uncle Lawrence was still being overprotective of her specifically for some reason probably because she didn’t have Mel’s cool exploding powers even if he didn’t say anything about it, Tia thought they needed to concentrate more on school (which probably meant Macy at work?) and that was why she was so reluctant helping them practice ‘too much’, Harry had some sort of Terrible Secret he was hiding or something, and Dexter’s mind she couldn’t read at all, which was probably a thing, plus Mel secretly thought Macy might have something to do with their mom’s death, and Macy secretly thought Mel was cheating with, of all people, Greta, probably because of all the internet stalking.

Not that she could address either of those last two things except in private, anyway.

So, of course, the first thing Maggie said upon walking in, before even ordering a smoothie, was, “have you guys seen my pens?”

“Which pens?” asked Mel, while Macy just pulled out a pen and handed it over.

“Thanks,” Maggie said, because you never turned down a pen when you were running low, and tucked it into her bag. “None of the fancy ones – well, that really pretty purple marker that I had – but like. Lots of them. Just. So many of them have gone missing.”

“Was this recently?” Macy asked. “Could you have left them somewhere?”

“Yeah, Macy,” Maggie said, tugging at her hair, “I just accidentally left all my pens from my bag, my desk, my backup pen drawer, and my coat in the same place all at once.”

“That is a lot of pens,” Macy said, taking only slight offense at the sarcasm.

“I buy this many because I keep losing them!” Maggie sat down heavily. “I’m only supposed to lose about one a week. This is too many.”

“Do you have _any_ left?” Mel asked.

Maggie shrugged. “I have three. Four now, I guess.”

“I can steal some from my office,” Macy offered, “anyway, how’d your study group go?”

“Great!” Maggie said. “Someone spray painted the basketball court.”

“What’d they paint?” Mel asked.

“You know, no one said?” Maggie told her, “I assume swears and stuff. Or maybe like, bad things about sports teams? Or good things? Is our basketball team any good?”

“They’re okay,” Mel said, “not good enough for a rival school to care.”

“Maybe they’ll print it in the newspaper,” Maggie said.

“Probably not if it’s a bunch of curse words,” Macy said, “newspapers get finicky about that stuff for some reason, especially school papers.”

“I mean, we could break in and see,” Maggie said.

“First of all, we’re not breaking into the gym,” Mel said, “also, they probably cleaned it up already, so I guess we’ll never know.”

“Whatever,” said Maggie, “do they have the pineapple smoothie on special anymore?”

“Yeah, it’s still up there,” Macy said, “they just moved it to the other board. I think they might be switching soon, but they’ll probably still make it if it’s popular.”

“I hope it becomes permanent,” Maggie said. “You guys want fries?”

“I’ll have a few,” Mel said, “I’m not really hungry.”

“I’ll have what you don’t finish,” Macy said with a grin.

“Kretz!” Macy said, “fucking hell, Kretz!”

“What did he do now?” Amanda asked.

Macy jumped, nearly dropping her plate full of bacteria. “Hey, I didn’t see you there.”

“I’m not that short!” Amanda said, in mock outrage. “Oh my god, is that food?”

“It is,” Macy said, “at this point I’m not sure what kind and I don’t want to ask, but yes.”

“Kretz!” Amanda screamed. “Do you see this sign? This ‘NO FOOD’ sign? This sign we had to put up specifically because of you? What were you thinking?”

“The microwave in the break room was full!” Kretz screamed back, “it’s all radiation! It should have been the same! It’s not my fault it’s not!”

“It’s not calibrated for food! It’s calibrated for germs!” Amanda screamed.

“Did he…did he try to use the popcorn button? You’re not supposed to use the popcorn button anyway,” Macy said. “This one isn’t _even_ a popcorn button.”

Amanda pointed at the melted mass of plastic. “There’s also a lot of plasticware you’re not supposed to microwave, but there you go.”

“So like…now not only do we have to clean this out – I mean, we need a specialist to clean this out – but someone’s going to have to recalibrate it,” Macy said. “Not it.”

“I think that’s technically Galvin’s job,” Amanda said, then, gesturing at the calendar on the wall, “or, at least, he’s rostered every time recalibration comes up.”

“Poor Galvin,” Macy said, shaking her head. Then, with feeling, “you can’t have food in the lab area _at all_ Kretz!”

“Poor Galvin,” Amanda agreed.

“Poor me, what?” Galvin said, then, staring at the mess in the microwave, “oh my god, tell me you didn’t do this, Macy, there’s no way someone could not get fired for this.”

“Please tell me that’s true,” Amanda said, rolling her eyes so hard she swayed in place.

“Oh,” said Galvin. “It was Kretz. He’s like. Related to whoever owns the company.”

“That explains so much,” Macy whispered.

Galvin stared at the wreckage again, and sighed dramatically. “Come on, you can use the old one. I keep it set up in the storeroom, in case of. You know.”

“You thought he was going to do this?” Amanda accused. “And you didn’t set up one of those secret fake jobs with a super important title for him to do?”

“I’m pretty sure that only works in movies,” Macy said.

“And half the time even in movies the not working is the point,” Galvin added.

“Look, I’ll take him over Thaine any day,” Amanda said, “but compost is compost, you know? And you’ve got to let it break down before you can use it.”

Macy and Galvin stared at her in horror.

“Are you threatening to _murder_ him?” Galvin whispered.

“Or like,” Macy said, “drive him crazy until he, um, breaks down in the soil?”

“What?” Amanda said, “no. I mean he’s full of shit. I mean it’s not a bad idea though. But I wouldn’t stick a body in my own compost, that’s a recipe for disaster.”

“You,” Macy said, “wouldn’t would you?”

“Oh, please, like we don’t all have a perfect murder plan lying around,” Amanda said, and waltzed away, presumably to find whoever could clean out the microwave thoroughly enough they could still do experiments in it.

“ _I_ don’t have a plan for the perfect murder,” Galvin said. “Do you?”

“I’ve thought about it,” Macy said, “I mean I read mysteries, right? But like. I think that was weird. Was that weird? I think it was weird.”

“I mean it’s not _that_ weird to want to murder Kretz,” Galvin said. “But don’t quote me.”

“Ugh, you will not believe the day I’ve had,” Niko said, leaning down to give Mel a kiss before draping her coat across the back of her chair. “You better believe it beats yours.”

“Probably,” Mel said, “I didn’t even have any classes today or anything. I had smoothies with Maggie and Macy.”

Niko looked out the window to the smoothie place roughly across the street. “So you just. Spent all afternoon in there. And then came in here.”

Mel laughed and gestured at her notebook. “I’ve been trying to write. I do have a whole dissertation to get through. Eventually.”

“Okay, well, coffee is the best way to that,” Niko agreed.

Before she could stand up again, Mel handed her a cup.

Niko sipped it. “Huh. Thought this was yours.”

“You thought I needed _three_ coffees at once?” Mel said.

“I’ve seen worse,” Niko told her, still sipping the coffee.

“So you’ve said,” Mel agreed, “is that what happened today?”

“No. Well, technically yes, the Chief gets a new one about once an hour and drinks maybe half of them before he forgets about them,” Niko said, “but no. It was – I told you about this really fucked up case we were doing?”

“The one with someone stalking and harassing a bunch of high school kids?” Mel said, “I mean, yeah, mom and I put together a whole anti-bullying campaign on that one.”

“That’s the one,” Niko said. “And, oh boy.”

“What?” Mel said, suddenly feeling that tightening in her chest, like maybe the demons had found Niko after all, “new targets? They escalated? Do you know who they are?”

“Boy howdy do I,” Niko said. “It turns out, and I am not kidding here, that it was _all a prank_ like are you fucking joking. Are you _joking_ holy shit.”

“A prank?” Mel said, “they think those kind of threats are a _prank_?”

“No, no,” Niko said, reaching around for her coffee cup, making a confused face, and then reaching past Mel to get it, “oh, god, no, they didn’t actually _send_ them to anyone. They were doctored screenshots – the original messages are all innocuous things about homework and whatever taken from various places online.”

“Who would – they doctored the screenshots? What for?” Mel said.

“Apparently, and I am directly quoting,” Niko said, “they thought it was _slow around the office_. They only came clean because we were still spending a lot of time on it, and they were worried about the murder. I mean.”

“Nope, forget it, never said it, never heard it,” Mel said.

“Thanks,” Niko told her. “Oh! We got a thank you card from the family of that dog you found. Weird how they were all in your backyard in a group like that.”

“Yeah,” Mel laughed, “Maggie says they like to form wolf packs and that’s normal.”

“I don’t think Maggie’s necessarily the one to ask about wolf packs and normalcy,” Niko said, “I’ve seen her books. The covers all have naked dudes and puns about ‘wild’ callings.”

“I don’t think Maggie confuses werewolves and regular dogs,” Mel said, and then a beat later, “I have no idea, actually, I’ll ask her.”

“Sexy premise maybe, but very outdated science,” Niko said, “also, remind me to ask her to stop recommending things with sheriffs in them.”

“What, why?” Mel said, “I mean, I don’t think you need that last part at all.”

“Mel!” Niko laughed. “No, the werewolf sheriffs are…they’re all…I don’t know, it’s all very sketchy uncomfortable business, threatening people to shut them up, murders, covering up all kinds of stuff. Just. Eugh.”

“Yeah, see, this is why I don’t read mysteries,” Mel said, “like don’t we get enough police brutality in real life? You didn’t even manage to get Smith fired.”

“Don’t remind me,” Niko muttered. “Trip and I have been compiling evidence – not here, up at his cabin – and so far, not enough. He may be the only one who still believes me at this point. If he weren’t so generally well-liked, _I_ might be out on my ass.”

“I’m sorry,” Mel said, for lack of anything else, then fumbled for her coffee, accidentally drinking the cold one even though she could’ve sworn she’d put them in the other order.

“Enough about my juvenile and/or abusive colleagues,” Niko said, “what’s up with your new sister? Smoothies, you said?”

“Yeah, it’s uh, we’ve done it a few times, I think it might be becoming a tradition?” Mel said, rubbing at the back of her neck. “That’s stupid, right?”

“No, it’s cute,” Niko told her, “you and Maggie have all your little things, you’ve got to develop some with Macy. As traditions go, it sounds fun.”

“I mean, it’s not just a sister thing,” Mel said, “last time Macy brought Galvin, you could come if you want to.”

“I did hear good things about their strawberry-banana,” Niko said. “On the other hand, is it strange to you to be in a food place talking about a different food place?”

“It’s a different kind of food, so I think it’s allowed,” Mel said.

“Are you sure?” Niko said, “I mean, I can see the place out the window. It just seems kind of surreal is all.”

“Speaking of surreal, I read your new review,” Mel told her.

“Yeah? Any good?” Niko asked.

“Oh, yeah, good surreal for sure, it was great,” Mel said. “You have a hell of a way with words when you get in a mood.”

“Well, you don’t count,” Niko said, with a grin, “you won’t even listen to them anyway. You have no idea whether I’m talking out my ass.”

“And I certainly won’t listen to it now!” Mel said with a grin, “I like the adjectives you use. They’re very evocative.”

Niko laughed.

“Macy?” Galvin said, “have you seen the cover slips? I could’ve sworn they were right here, but I can’t find them anymore.”

Macy looked around the cramped office space at the back of the storage room where a few pieces of equipment had been set up. She could’ve sworn too – but both of them were looking at a box of pipettes rather than anything to prepare slides (on opposite sides, though) and it didn’t seem like it had moved recently. Maybe not for weeks.

Macy grabbed a small box that had been sitting by the disused microscope and handed it over. “That should hold you for a while.”

“Thanks.” Galvin opened it to find it half full, and said, “I’ll take it. We’ll see if tomorrow offers any better luck on the equipment front.”

“Right?” Macy said, “every time I look for something today – and it’s not just the fucked up microwave either.”

“Well, we’ll also hope for better luck on the Kretz front,” Galvin said.

“Oh, that’s never going to happen,” Macy said. “Tell you what, we’ll both pray for it, and that should cover a lot of bases.”

Galvin laughed. “How goes the project?”

“Oh, you know, slower than usual,” Macy said, “it’s really stuffy in here, is something blocking the vent, or has it just been broken forever?”

“It’s always been kind of stuffy,” Galvin said, “but not usually this bad. I’ll put in a work order, but I don’t know when it’ll get filled.”

“What, we have all the budget for new apparatus, but none for that?” Macy said.

“Well, we have to get the new apparatus to replace the ones with melted food in them,” Galvin said, with a completely straight face.

Macy laughed.

“So, what’s it like, with your new sisters?” Galvin asked.

Macy tilted her head. “What’s what like? What are they like?”

“No, I mean, what’s it like having sisters?” Galvin asked.

“You know,” Macy said, “you have sisters.”

“Oh, but I always had sisters,” Galvin said, “I grew up with them, so it’s like, they’re just people I know really well and have to remember to call on holidays.”

“Holidays,” Macy said, eyes widening slightly, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Tell you what, get the birthday presents now,” Galvin said, “just for backup, in case it gets too hectic or you can’t think of anything, so you’ll have them ready.”

“That’s a good point,” Macy said, “wow. I don’t even know when their birthdays are.”

“You can ask,” Galvin said, “I don’t think it becomes rude for another month at least.”

Macy clapped a hand to her forehead. “I think Maggie’s birthday is this week.”

“Oh, that’s okay, then,” Galvin said, “you still barely know her so you can still get a gift card and it’s not a dick move.”

“Oh, I should get her a pineapple,” Macy said. “That would be funny, right? Are prank gifts allowed yet?”

“I don’t know, maybe for Christmas,” Galvin said, “do they do Christmas?”

“I think so,” Macy said, “but I can ask.”

“Well, they can always do Saturnalia with you if you want,” Galvin added. “But other than the current crisis, going well?”

“Mm,” Macy said, “I think it’s a little, like, we want to be really close – Mel and Maggie are really close you know – but we don’t actually know a whole lot about each other.”

“That’s just regular friend stuff,” Galvin said, “you can work that out. I mean all you need is some groundwork, right? So like. Pick a movie or something?”

“We’ve been doing that, yeah,” Macy said, “we have a whole list of movies we want to watch together. I mean that’s what people do on TV right? That’s the best guide I have, I don’t know any real life people who met a long-lost sibling.”

“There’s probably a reddit for that,” Galvin said, “don’t know if it would have any good advice though. I’m generally only there for bleps and pet advice.”

“Yes, right,” Macy said, “check the internet for overly specific support groups, that’s going on my to-do list. Thank you for reminding me.”

“Bean,” Niko said, tugging the leash, “Bean, baby, that isn’t anything.”

The dog sniffed a random patch of air and whined.

“Sweetie, darling, my lovely little idiot dog, it’s just air,” Niko said, “what, does it smell like food? There’s food inside.”

The dog continued to look distractedly back and forth, and Niko had to pick her up bodily and haul her inside.

“Hey! Anyone here?”

Maggie rushed to the door, pulling it open just enough to say, “I’m going to leave it unlocked, but I have to shut it, count to ten then come inside.”

“Okay,” Niko said, and following her instructions, brought Cocoa Bean inside.

“Bean!” Maggie said, finally letting go of the collars of the other two dogs, “it’s been ages, how have you been?”

Bean yipped and licked at her hand.

“I have to run, you okay here?” Niko asked.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Maggie said, “just make sure you look out for dogs on your way out, they seem to love the door.”

“Will do,” Niko said, and headed out.

A pair of figures hazed into existence at the top of the stairs, and Maggie hurriedly made a shushing noise. Then, when she wasn’t getting through, gestured to Bean.

“Bean!” Mel said, and came down to give the dog a kiss, who wagged her tail and jumped into Mel’s arms.

“I suppose this means practice is cut short?” Harry said, sounding put out.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get to your orbing practice later,” Maggie told him, “you just missed Niko – how long is Beanie staying?”

“Couple of days, maybe a week,” Mel said, “what a good girl.”

“Can I meet the dog?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Mel said, and set the dog down.

Harry called to her and she ran up the stairs, happily sniffing around his pant legs, and eventually holding still to let him pet her. Moments later, the former hellhounds ran upstairs to join her.

“You better not be giving them treats up there,” Maggie called, “you’ll spoil their supper! And Bean’s got a special diet so she doesn’t get stressed from staying somewhere new!”

“No treats, I promise, it’s just a squeaky toy,” Harry called back.

“Why didn’t mom ever let us get a dog?” Maggie said.

“I don’t know,” Mel told her, “I thought maybe she was afraid of dogs. But now I think maybe she wanted Dexter to come back and live with us all along, him and Macy, so we could all be a family again. And he’s afraid of dogs.”

“Oh my god,” Maggie said, “the, uh, whatever, the other elder, who sent Macy away, that’s – mom was waiting until I turned eighteen because then we all could’ve made the choice to have Macy back in our lives and no one could stop us.”

“Is that, is that how it works?” Mel asked.

“I mean it must, right?” Maggie said, “you get to choose to be a good witch or a bad witch or whatever because you’re an adult. So the influences would’ve already influenced, and that’s what the other one was afraid of, right?”

“Like…if you could prove you were a good witch, that we all were,” Mel said slowly, “they would’ve had no reason to keep Macy away anymore.”

“I thought it was Dexter,” Maggie said.

“Well, yeah, but if it were only him who was a bad influence, wouldn’t Macy still have lived with mom?” Mel said, “unless mom sent her away, but why would she do that?”

“Why would anyone send either of them away?” Maggie asked, “they’re nice, and Dexter knows a lot about demon lore and he’s been helping.”

“You think it’s a race thing?” Mel asked.

“What,” said Maggie, “like the elders are racist or something?”

“It wouldn’t need to be all of them,” Mel said, “it could be only the one who was threatening mom, and either she’s powerful and has a lot of influence, or else she had some sort of credible threat. I mean I don’t know what she said, what if she literally said she would kill Macy or something? Mom definitely would’ve sent her away them.”

“Well that doesn’t sound great,” Maggie said, “then again, why did I expect magic government to be better than the regular kind?”

“I wonder if her book of prophecies has any advice about that,” Mel said.

“It doesn’t,” Maggie told her.

“What, you read the whole thing?” Mel asked.

“I mean, I was looking for her notes,” Maggie said, “I just…I wanted to see what she had to say to us, and, I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot. But I mean, I don’t know how long it took her to write it, maybe she didn’t have time?”

“Oh,” Mel said.

“What?” Maggie crossed her arms.

“You just miss her,” Mel said, “it’s okay. I’ve been playing her lectures while I fall asleep. We should play her videos for Macy.”

“Oh,” Maggie said. “Yeah, that’s a better idea. That…can I borrow them? I mean the videos, but like, the lectures too? Just to watch?”

“Of course,” Mel said, and wrapped Maggie in a hug.

“Guys?” Macy called, opening the door slightly.

“It’s okay, we’re in the kitchen,” Maggie called back, “safe to open the door.”

“We’ve really got to train these dogs better,” Mel said. “Especially the little one. I’m onto you Marshmallow!”

“Marshmallow?” Macy repeated.

“We’re trying it out,” Maggie said, “you like it?”

“It’s the right shape and color, anyway,” Macy said, “you sure are the fluffiest dog I’ve ever seen, yes you are, yes you are!”

Marshmallow wagged her tail so hard she slipped off the rug, running up to lick Macy’s hand and try to steal her shoelaces.

“Marshmallow, no,” Mel said. “Shoelaces are _no_.”

“What about Big Dog?” Macy said.

“Still in the works,” Maggie told her.

Macy reached down to pet Big Dog, too, and noticed a third dog hiding in the corner looking about ready to growl. “Um. Did you get a third dog while I wasn’t looking?”

“That’s just Cocoa Bean, she’s a sweetie,” Mel said, then, turning around, “oh, no, Bean, what’s wrong?”

“It’s okay, it’s just me,” Macy said, “most dogs don’t like me for some reason.”

“Maybe it’s your detergent or something?” Mel said, “try washing your clothes here and see if Bean likes you better. Bean _hated_ me when we switched brands.”

“Maybe,” Macy said, “but it’s been happening since I was a kid.”

“Oh, man, if dogs have done this to you since you were a kid, I get why your dad’s scared of them,” Maggie said. “He’s not here, is he?”

“Uh, no,” Macy said. “I kind of. Told him to leave.”

“Just ’cause of Cocoa Bean?” Mel asked, “we can keep her away from him.”

“No, uh, before that,” Macy said, “we had a fight and I told him to go away. For the foreseeable future.”

“Oh no what about?” Maggie asked.

Macy shrugged. “Kind of. Him lying to me and all.”

“Ugh, I hear that,” Maggie said, “imagine how much easier it would’ve been being witches all this time? Like I’m sure there are spells that could help with homework and all, and not to mention I bet there’s all kinds of makeup spells and stuff once we get the hang of it.”

“Wait, but he thought you always knew you were a witch, didn’t he?” Mel said.

“I mean, maybe,” Macy said, “he never told me, though. And anyway, it was more about the Evil Elder or whatever and how he and mom were actually trying to start a family.”

“Oh,” Mel said, “I mean, that sucks and all, but, like, what would he have even told you? Or when? Seems awkward to bring up.”

“I guess so,” Macy said, frowning. “I feel like he should’ve said something at some point, at least after I got my powers or whatever, or, you know, started to really use them.”

“Oh,” Mel said, “what difference would it have made?”

“Mel!” Maggie said, “what the fuck!”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Mel said, “I just meant. If he did tell you. I don’t know. Would it help or something?”

“I think the real question is _why_ didn’t he tell you,” Maggie said, “that seems more important to me than _when_ he didn’t tell you.”

“Well, I know _why_ ,” Macy said, “that’s pretty obvious, that’s just about, like, he didn’t want me constantly looking over my shoulder and all, or I guess missing mom. I feel like it would’ve been nice to know she wanted to keep me but couldn’t, is all.”

“I thought you did know that?” Maggie said.

Macy furrowed her brow. “How would I know that?”

“I don’t know,” Maggie said, “didn’t you say she sent you lots of presents and nice cards and stuff? That sounds like someone trying her best to be in your life.”

“Huh,” Macy said, “you might be onto something.”

“Actually, I think that may be the more important point,” Mel said.

“Which one?” Maggie asked, “there have been a lot of points.”

“The…what was it, looking over your shoulder?” Mel asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Macy said, “the Evil Elder who threatened Marisol or something.”

“Right,” Maggie said, “she had a whole speech about how it was unbecoming of an elder to…I don’t know what came afterwards, but she didn’t like your dad I guess?”

“Wait, what, where did you hear this?” Mel asked.

“Aren’t you supposed to be more successful at listening to speeches than I am?” Maggie asked, “Uncle Lawrence said: something something mean Elder, something something mom had to give Macy up. And then something about ghosts.”

“Wait, so there’s a whole…either a corrupt section of government, or the whole government is corrupt, or people can just get away with this without oversight?” Mel said, “does this not trouble either of you?”

“That’s like regular government,” Macy said, at the same time Maggie said, “well, yeah, if there’s a fantasy government they’re always terrible.”

“Okay, but who?” Mel said.

“I’m not sure I ever learned their name. Her name?” Macy said, “I think it was a she.”

“It was,” Maggie said, “a virtue name I think. Patience. Honesty. Chastity?”

“Chastity?” Mel repeated.

“Yeah,” said Maggie, “I think it was Chastity. Because I remember thinking it was weird, like the virtue clashed with being a horrible person.”

“Isn’t that, like, all virtues?” Mel said.

“Yeah,” Maggie said, very drawn out, “that’s why I know it was a virtue name.”

“What does chastity have to do with being good or evil?” Mel asked.

“Because chastity means pro-marriage?” Maggie said, “and, like, she was breaking up a marriage instead of encouraging it? Or something, I don’t know, I didn’t think that far, I just thought she sounded really awful.”

“Well, your mom went and had more kids anyway,” Macy said, “so I guess she got one over on this Chastity after all.”

“Yeah,” said Maggie, “you’re right. And without even getting married, too.”

“Remind me to take down the Witch Government after I’m done with the regular one,” Mel said, writing something down in her planner.

“Did you deal with that infestation?” Harry asked, bending down to try to greet Bean, who looked quite wary about the whole ordeal.

“Not yet, but are you sure we have to?” Maggie asked, “they sound cute. What if they’re cute? We could keep them as pets.”

“What, two dogs and a visiting dog isn’t enough for you?” Mel asked.

“Well, I suppose that depends on what they are,” Harry said, “anyway, just thought I’d check in, see if you needed any help or supplies or anything.”

“You can get us supplies?” Macy asked.

“Well,” Harry said, “I can recommend stores, and sometimes I can find someone to lend you something in a pinch. All my other charges steal from work.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Macy said, “Big Pharma has some great chemicals to work with. I bet we could substitute a lot of ingredients if I knew what the active compound was.”

“There, see?” Harry said, “problem solved.”

“How many other charges do you have?” Maggie asked.

“They’re trying to get rid of most of them, if I’m to be your whitelighter,” Harry said, “as they assume you’ll need extra attention, can’t imagine what would give them that impression. So I had about twenty five – chronic understaffing you know – but now I’ve got three others besides you, but one of them is about to be switched off soon. They may add another, though.”

Mel flipped open the prophecy book, noted the section of the Book of Shadows they were meant to look through, and opened to it, taking a picture with her phone so they could take it with them. “This says ‘central area’, what does that mean?”

“Well, it depends on – dear lord, _Witching Mothballs_?” Harry said.

“Yeah,” Maggie told him, “don’t they sound cute?”

“They absolutely are _not_ cute, they’re extremely dangerous once they reach critical mass, let’s hope that hasn’t happened already,” Harry said, “have you noticed anything strange?”

“Nothing but,” Mel told him, “and forgive me if I don’t trust your judgement. You’ve been trying to scaremonger about the apocalypse since we met.”

“What?” Harry said, but the Charmed Ones were already leaving, “I assure you, the apocalypse is very real, and The Harbinger –”

“Tia,” Maggie called, “are you here?”

“In here,” she called back, from the living room.

“Great!” Mel said, “Harry’s being dramatic again and we wanted a second opinion.”

“Okay,” Tia said, “what about?”

“We wanted to know if the magical pest is dangerous,” Macy chimed in, opening the book of prophecies to the right page to show her.

“Depends on what kind,” Tia said, “most aren’t very, but they can quickly become a nuisance if you don’t get to them fast enough. Do you know which, or are we trying to determine that? I might have a couple spells, your mom should have had some too.”

“Witching Mothballs,” Maggie said, “I think they sound cute.”

“Oh, no, they’re definitely not cute,” Tia said, “Toaster Imps? Cute. Those things? Terrible, and you should get rid of them as soon as possible.”

“What’s a Toaster Imp?” Maggie asked.

“They’re little creatures, they eat breadcrumbs, they keep your toaster set too high because they like the burnt ones,” Tia said, “a colony hardly ever gets larger than five or six, and they don’t really spread to other toasters. But you really should get going, this is a time sensitive issue and if I’d known I would’ve told you to get on it this morning, or even yesterday.”

“Fine, fine, we’re going,” Mel said, “everyone got the spell?”

Maggie and Macy checked their phones, and verbalized their agreement.

“Great,” Mel said, “let’s head to campus, that’s the most central part of town, right?”

“Geographically, no,” Macy said, “but I think this is a more symbolic thing, and they really are the heart of the town, which, incidentally, also not in the center of your body.”

“Where on campus?” Maggie said, starting the car.

“The quad?” Mel said, “does that make sense?”

“A lot of people hang out there?” Macy asked.

“Yeah, we have lunch there a lot,” Maggie said, “special events too.”

“Okay, seems like a good idea,” Macy said, “is there a central feature, a fountain or a statue or something?”

“There’s the bulletin board where everyone always says to meet,” Mel said, “do you think that’s good enough?”

“I think it’ll have to be,” Macy said. “Let’s go.”

It was late enough that campus was mostly deserted, and even the parts still bristling with people were closer to the dorms than the classroom buildings. Every now and then someone crossed their path, but no one was putting up notices. Mel and Maggie awkwardly held hands around Maggie’s phone, leaving Macy to more casually hold their hands, but also keep an eye out for people who might intrude. No one did. They read off the short poem, and, even though they felt a surge of energy, nothing seemed to happen.

“Did it work?” Maggie asked.

“No idea,” Mel said, “ _something_ happened, at least.”

“It must’ve,” Macy said, “I mean, we said the spell, it activated.”

“Well, what now?” Maggie asked, “how do we see if it worked?”

Macy looked around for signs, but all she saw was a figure seemingly ziplining down from the athletics building. When she looked again, though, she couldn’t see any sign of rigging. Still, she dropped her sisters’ hands and turned around, trying not to look guilty. The other two Charmed Ones put on their best innocent faces, too.

“Oh!” Mel said, “Bianca!”

Bianca looked from one to the other, then said, almost angrily, “hey.”

“These are my sisters,” Mel told her, “Maggie and Macy.”

“We’ve met, actually,” Macy said. “Did you just rappel down a building?”

“What? No,” Bianca said. “What am I, Batman? Who climbs up and down buildings on a school night, literally what reason would I have to do that.”

“Are you sure?” Maggie asked, “you’re dressed for it.”

“Dressed for what?” Bianca said, gesturing to her leather vest and coordinating pants. “This is normal clothes, I always wear this. Ask Ms. Vera.”

“Uh,” said Mel, uncomfortable with the sudden address as a teacher, “well in class you usually wear hoodies, actually, everyone does.”

“She did wear something like that at the party,” Macy said, awkwardly.

“Yeah, because it’s hot,” Bianca said, “whatever, it’s fine, what are you even doing out here this late, huh? Maybe _you’re_ suspicious.”

“What,” Maggie said.

Mel shared a look with her.

“I’m suspicious _now_ ,” Macy muttered, and tried to share a look with both of them, but didn’t quite succeed, not having the sisterly bond and associated silent language down yet.

“Bianca, did you finish,” a voice said, then stopped very suddenly.

“Chris!” Maggie said. “Hello. Is your brother here?”

Wyatt stepped around the corner a minute later.

“Hey,” Maggie said, suddenly shy.

“Hey,” Wyatt said, in almost precisely the same tone of voice.

“Oh, god, get a room,” Bianca said. Then, with a look at all three of them, “we were never here.”

“Sure. Got it,” Mel said.

Macy watched them all leave – Wyatt calling out a plaintive goodbye – and wondered whether this was normal. “It’s like they think they’re in an action movie,” she said.

“I was going to say that Bianca’s the shy empath who doesn’t know how hot she is,” Maggie said, “except obviously she does know, but she shouldn’t because that ruins the whole first three love interest storylines.”

“I think she’s already dating Chris,” Macy said.

“Oh,” Maggie said, “boring, but makes sense.”

“She can’t be dating Chris,” Mel said, “I mean, just look at her. Look at how she looked at _me_. Like. Come on.”

“She could be bi,” Maggie said.

“Please, everyone can’t be bi,” Mel said.

“Is it just me or are they always around?” Macy asked. “All three, not just Bianca.”

“Well, yeah, Chris and Wyatt are in Freshman English with me,” Maggie said, “Bianca’s not, though, but I don’t know, if she’s dating Chris that makes sense though.”

“In your English class?” Macy said, “that’s why they’re always around?”

“Sure,” Maggie said, “we’re in the same study group.”

“It’s the middle of the night, Maggie, they’re not coming from study group,” Mel said.

“You know what?” Maggie said, “ _you_ think she’s up to something because you read too many mystery novels, and _you_ just want to be suspicious because it’ll excuse how much you’re thinking of her in her skintight leather.”

“You don’t know that,” Mel said.

“Uh-huh, I do, because I read your mind,” Maggie said. “When? You’ll never know. Just keeping you on your toes, dear sister.”

“I think you were right about me, though,” Macy said. “Hang on. I’m going to call my dad and see if he knows whether the spell worked.”

Thirty minutes later and the sisters had accounted for their sweaters, vases, and pens, and asked around to see the minor accountings of everyone else they could talk to about witchcraft. Maggie promised to keep an eye out at school in case any more trouble cropped up.

“I still think they sounded cute,” Maggie said.

Macy flipped through a separate tome, one that had a little more information on them, “hey, look here. They are pretty cute.”

“Oh, now that I would keep as a pet,” Mel said, “I mean, assuming there wouldn’t constantly be more of them.”


End file.
